The Unknown Spectre
by Mistress Lrigtar
Summary: Happily married for three years, Harry and Ginny Potter decide to buy a house in the country with the hope of gaining some privacy from the Wizarding world. However, when a series of unexplained sightings and events occur, their dream life soon turns into a nightmare. Disclaimer:I don't own the Harry Potter characters or world, that honor is all JKR's. Thank you!
1. Prologue

**Author's Notes: **Many thanks to my two fantastic betas, Arnel and Seekers_Destiny for pointing out character, canon, grammar, and other flaws. I hope you all will enjoy, and any and all comments are welcome. I love receiving feedback on what you liked or didn't like. Thanks!

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The cloaked and hooded figure stood in the large dining room at the head of the mahogany table glaring down its length at him. He trembled in the presence of the man that was more monster than human at this stage of his supposed evolution, awaiting his judgment. He knew he had failed miserably and that the beast would punish him dearly. Numerous masked and hooded figures of varying shapes and sizes lined either side of the long table staring hungrily at him. They yearned for a show and were eager for the master to exhibit his wrath.

Shivering, he timidly raised his gaze to the cloaked being, his brow furrowing in disgust at the horrific lines of the monster's face, made even more terrifying by the flickering candlelight that cast long shadows along the gaunt cheekbones and temples. The nostrils flared as the beast breathed, contemplating him.

"Tell me again, Severus," the voice rasped. "How this boy failed me."

One of the hooded figures turned its gaze away from him to look upon the hideous countenance. "My Lord, he was beguiled by Dumbledore."

"Excuses!" the evil incarnate spat. "Beguiled! My request was simple! So simple, little Peter could have performed it!"

"Master!" a snivelling creature scraped and bowed from nearer him. "It would have been an hon-"

"Silence!" the monstrosity roared. "Severus has been exposed and someone must pay for that grievance."

It turned its awful yellow gaze back to him and he couldn't help the fear that overcame him. His pale cheeks flushed in embarrassment as a warm wetness seeped into his trousers and his brow broke out in a cold sweat in anticipation of the torture to come. The beast moved swiftly from where it had stood at the head of table, literally flying down the side of the table towards him and raised its wand arm almost lazily despite the rage radiating from every fibre of its being. "_Crucio_!"

"NO!" a woman screamed as the agony overtook him and he screamed along with her, his body collapsing to the floor and jerking uncontrollably under the onslaught. It seemed never-ending and his nerve endings felt as if they were on fire, the flames creeping over him to lick hungrily at his brain. Blackness was overtaking him when the torture stopped, but his body still burned. He lay still, unable to move and afraid to do so in case there was more to come.

How silly of him, of course there would be more. He had to pay for the transgressions of not only himself, but his father as well. His father who had let Potter slip through his fingers a year prior. Potter! Slippery like a snake. He should have been a Slytherin, and then maybe all of this would never have had to happen.

He blanched inside. Maybe _he_ should have been a Gryffindor. Disownment wouldn't have been so bad. Which side was the right side? He honestly didn't know anymore, and was simply going through the motions because it was all he had ever been taught. He was confused.

Agony overtook him once more, sending the traitorous thoughts from his mind. He hadn't even heard the monster hiss the curse this time. He felt his body writhing on the cold marble floor of a room he used to have lavish meals in with his parents. That dotty house-elf he'd always despised tripping over himself with the silver platters of food, squeaking in that annoyingly high-pitched voice of his. His head banged against one of the heavy clawed feet of the table and laughter rang out at his punishing performance.

_I hate you!_ The thought chased itself around in his muddled brain. Who did he hate? Himself? The monster? Potter? He didn't know the answer.

"Bring me that boy or you will die!" The monster's voice seeped into his musings, bellowing with fury.

The table, hooded figures, and the dining room swirled leaving him alone with a silhouette of the monster looming over him in his cell at Azkaban. He shrank away from the apparition as it cajoled in his ear, "No, bring me Harry Potter or _she _will die. Your pretty girlfriend."

It seemed to point towards the barred door of his cell as, blessedly the ghost of the monster faded away, but he didn't have a pretty girlfriend. Pansy with her mousy brown hair and piggish nose fancied herself his girlfriend, and he played along because how would it look if he didn't have a girlfriend when Potter did?

"Draco, you're dreaming. Please wake up!" a woman's voice pleaded.

Struggling through the heavy layers of the nightmare turned dream, he swam to the surface. Cracking his eyes, they adjusted to the dim, greyish light that filtered in from the barred window set high in the cold stone walls of his cell. Draco Malfoy blinked and looking around the small cell, he froze when a dark shadow moved in the corner, and red eyes peered out at him. Was the monster still in the cell with him?

He shrank back against the wall, staring at the eyes as they approached and the shadow diminished to the small form of a rat, and nothing more. Draco sagged in relief as the rat scurried by his bed and headed for the barred door of his cell. Following its passage Draco saw a beautiful girl with honey-blonde hair and bright blue eyes gazing at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes full of concern and she was wearing silken pale blue robes that accentuated her eyes and creamy skin. Oh, she was very pretty, but she was not his girlfriend.

"Draco?" she whispered.

Relief flooded through him that she was real. "Astoria, I was – dreaming."

"A nightmare?" she asked kindly, the worry lines easing at the sound of his voice.

He nodded not wanting to tell her the small part she had played. She visited him every week, but he did not know if it was because she felt for him what he felt for her or if it was simply part of her charity. She and her sister, Daphne had begun visiting fellow classmates who had been imprisoned after the war, bringing them blankets and the few small comforts that were allowed from the world outside – books, sweets, newspapers, and magazines. Pansy had never bothered to write him, let alone visit him.

"I hate that there are rats here," Astoria stated in dismay, stepping aside as the rat scuttled by her. "You shouldn't have to live in filth."

Draco snorted. "According to the Wizarding world, I am filth."

"You were tortured just like everyone else," Astoria declared. "Why can't they see that you were used?"

Draco stared at her through the bars. "You believe that?"

"Of course I do," Astoria stated firmly. "He was a monster. What other choice did you have?"

"Death," Draco answered quietly. "I could have just disobeyed and been put out of my misery."

"But then we would never have met," Astoria softly replied.

"You're not repulsed by me?" Draco asked in astonishment. "By what I did?"

She shook her head. "No, Draco, I'm not."

He stared at her for a moment before a small smile broke out on his face. "Sometimes, sometimes I dream of you," he admitted, staring at her to gauge her reaction.

Her cheeks turned the prettiest shade of pink as she digested this information. "Really?"

He nodded, relief flooding through him when she smiled shyly at him. "I'm flattered," she continued. "I brought you the latest _Daily Prophet_," she said, changing the subject. "There's another sordid article in there regarding Harry and Ginny Potter drinking in a pub in Wales and then having an enormous row. I know you enjoy those."

Draco smirked and took the proffered paper. "Oh how the mighty have fallen," he murmured, but he didn't feel the joy he would have felt had he been at Hogwarts six years ago, gloating over Potter's misfortune. Honestly, he didn't believe a word the _Prophet _printed when it came to Potter unless it was about his chosen profession and the outstanding job he was doing. All the personal articles were no different than all the rubbish that had been printed about him since he had set foot inside the Wizarding world – a bunch of lies told by people who were jealous, accompanied by blurry or cleverly cropped photos that appeared to be incriminating. Draco knew this because he had been one of those people.

He did enjoy reading the articles because even though they were full of nothing but falsehoods, they proved vastly entertaining and he could just imagine how Potter would stomp about and shout to anyone who would listen that there wasn't an ounce of truth to the stories. Draco actually missed those days, sometimes, if only they hadn't been accompanied by such dark events.

A shudder ran through him as images from his nightmare resurfaced. His gaze darted about his cell once more, still fearful that the dark hooded figure was going to appear out of the shadows.

"Draco?" Astoria asked again, "Tell me what's wrong?"

He shook his head. "The images in my dream seemed more real today for some reason. I can't shake them."

"It's this place," she said, shivering. "I hate thinking of you here. It's depressing."

"Why come, then?" Draco petulantly asked.

Astoria gazed at him fondly. "Because of you, Draco. I come for you."

Draco didn't know what to say to that, feeling suddenly undeserving and grossly inadequate. He had nothing he could offer her, being locked in this cell, his family fortune all but depleted, and part of him couldn't understand why she would care for him at all. She was so beautiful and he could only imagine what he must look like after three years of being locked away. He had stopped looking in the small mirror over the sink in his cell long ago when he steadily grew to despise what he saw looking back at him.

"I don't know what to say," Draco finally blurted. "I have nothing to give you in return."

"Your companionship is enough," she replied and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry I have to go now, but I'll come back as soon as I can."

Draco nodded. "Thank you," he said, waving the paper and his hands in a gesture encompassing everything between them.

"You're welcome," Astoria said. "Dream of me."

She gazed at him a moment longer before turning and walking slowly down the corridor to the door at the end where a large, burly guard stood waiting. Draco moved to the door and tried to catch one last glimpse of her, but the angle was too great. Turning back to his depressing cell once more he looked down at the paper she had given him and laughed. A comical picture of Potter stumbling out the door of a pub and falling to his knees, tripping up an equally seemingly pissed Weaslette, who fell over him headfirst into a mud puddle, covered the entire front page with the headline **Pear Shaped Potters Pissed in Puddle**.

Draco snorted with more laughter. Now the reporters were just getting desperate and resorting to little more than tongue twisters and idiocy. He shook the paper out to read the accompanying article fully, but froze when the dark letters of the headline melted into the paper and the blurry photo of Potter and Weasley morphed into that of a grotesque serpentine visage that hissed as it reached out from the pages for him.

"Bring me Harry Potter," it rasped.

Yelping in terror, Draco dropped the paper, scattering the pages across the floor of his cell as he scrambled back onto his cot. A dark puddle oozed around the paper, slowly engulfing it until the black liquid shimmered in the pale light of the cell. It coiled around itself like a snake and slithered towards a drain in the far corner.

Draco watched the black sludge disappear before he began screaming at the top of his lungs and didn't stop even after the guards came and restrained him.


	2. Ch 1 - Parlour Games

**Author's Note: **Once again, thanks to my betas Arnel and Seekers_Destiny for all of their help with grammar, canon, and even rewrites. If there are any mistakes, I am to blame! Also, thanks to StephanieO for her grammar beta-ing on this chapter. I hope you all will enjoy, and all comments, good or bad are greatly appreciated. Thanks!

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"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, what do you think?" the estate agent, Mrs. Smith asked when they had arrived at the final house of the day.

Ginny smiled inwardly. Would she ever tire of hearing herself referred to as Mrs. Potter? She and Harry had been married just over three years, but her heart still fluttered every time anyone called her by her new surname.

In Quidditch she still went by Ginny Weasley, it was the name she had carried when she began her career and she thought it was important to keep some sense of her identity separate. Not that she was afraid she would lose herself if she took on Harry's last name, but because Ginny Weasley, Quidditch star was vastly different from Ginny Potter, wife. The only time the two merged was at the Harpies events she and Harry attended together or when they celebrated with her team at a pub or club after a victory.

Those times were often, actually. Since she had left Hogwarts and joined the Harpies, and Harry had received top honours from the Auror academy and begun his career as a junior Auror, he had joined her at as many post-game celebrations he could. As the only married player on the team, she was the envy of all the other women.

The other players shamelessly flirted with Harry at the parties, and he had learned quickly it was much easier to deal with them after a couple of drinks. The alcohol lightened him up enough that he was able to mildly flirt back without stuttering all over himself, all the while keeping his arm firmly around Ginny's waist. It was clear that it was all in fun and the other girls knew he only had eyes for his wife. Ginny loved every minute of it, and the fun they had at the parties and after.

Things may have gotten out of hand a time or two. It was difficult to drink with the Harpies and not imbibe too much once in a while. She and Harry tried to be responsible, but unfortunately, the few times they had drunk too much had, somehow, leaked out to _The Daily Prophet_ along with blurry photos. Ginny's family and all their friends had lectured them, and neither she nor Harry had really been able to convince them that it wasn't a daily or even a weekly occurrence of them going out drinking. Everyone assumed they were making up for lost time.

It would have been hard to take if it weren't for Harry, who actually thought the whole thing was comical, at least when it came to what the papers said about himself. Ginny, however, couldn't help feeling annoyed for the both of them, and she knew Harry didn't find anything written that besmirched Ginny's name to be funny at all. The papers were violating their privacy. Neither of them could go anywhere nor do anything without a story being printed about it somewhere in the _Prophet_, or worse _Witch Weekly_.

If they were seen holding hands there were sappy articles of how in love they still were. However, if they were seen together, but weren't standing near each other or whatnot, rumours flew that they were breaking up over another witch or wizard. There had been photos of Harry with Luna and most recently, there had been a rumour that Harry was leaving Ginny for Hermione, even though Ron and Hermione were still newlyweds. Once, a story had been printed that Ginny was having an affair with Lee Jordan, of all people, simply because she was seen having lunch with him and George one day. George had been conveniently cropped out of the incriminating photo and it had looked like she and Lee were sharing an intimate meal.

Ginny had once asked Harry how he could stand it and he had replied that he didn't read the papers obsessively like she did, and he had profound trust in her and their relationship. Ah, Harry, how was it that the boy who could become so tongue-tied always knew the exact thing to say to make her feel better?

"I was just mentioning that Wildebrook was built at the turn of the century," Mrs. Smith's voice broke into Ginny's thoughts. "By the expression on your face, can I assume you don't like it, Mrs. Potter?"

Ginny blinked and looked over at the estate agent, who had been rattling off the features of the house to her and Harry, but apparently Ginny had missed most of those. Harry raised his eyebrows at her in question and she shrugged.

"Sorry," Ginny replied. "I was only thinking of what has brought us to be looking for a home in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh, you aren't in the middle of nowhere, Mrs. Potter," Mrs. Smith rushed in to say. "The quaint marketing village of Pickering is only a few miles down the lane."

"So, there won't be any reporters lurking behind bushes to pop up and take indecent photos of us, lounging in our all-together in the garden then?" Ginny asked, watching as her husband's face turned beet red and the agent looked between the two of them in shock.

"Oh, whatever you choose to do in the privacy of your own home is no one's business, Mrs. Potter," the agent boldly ploughed away. "I assure you, a reporter from the _Prophet_ will be hard pressed to find you out here."

"We don't, er, we've never," Harry stuttered, staring at the agent with wide eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Potter, no need to be so embarrassed," Mrs. Smith insisted. "Would you like to see the inside and then the back garden?"

Harry shot Ginny a glare, which she flicked away with a smirk. As they followed the agent inside Ginny whispered. "Gave you some ideas, didn't I, Mr. Potter?"

"Shut it, _Mrs. _Potter, unless you really want to give this poor agent a heart attack right here in the gravel turn-around," Harry muttered.

Ginny grinned. "Don't say things you have no intention of going through with, Harry."

"Who says I wouldn't?" Harry asked.

Ginny was about to answer when Mrs. Smith turned around, "Question, sir?"

"Oh, no," Harry answered, ignoring Ginny's quiet snickers. "We can't wait to see the inside."

"I think you'll be pleased," the agent commented and unlocked the door with a flick of her wand.

The warped, wooden door creaked open to reveal a spacious foyer with a parquet floor in need of scrubbing and a thick film of dust coated nearly every wooden surface. Dust motes, stirred up by the door opening, floated through the beams of sunlight that shone through the front door and adjacent windows.

A wide staircase immediately to the left headed upstairs to a landing before curving out of sight over their heads. To the left and right of the entryway were wide, arched entrances to two front rooms. A hallway to the right of the staircase led past it towards what Ginny assumed was the kitchen and perhaps another room in the back.

"These two front rooms can be used as dining rooms, sitting rooms, whatever you would choose. Both lead into the kitchen and sitting room respectively and there is a W.C. off the kitchen as well as a sunroom that leads into the garden," Mrs. Smith explained.

"It sounds lovely," Ginny commented. Even with the state of the house, she could imagine it fixed up and cosy. She could already picture having her family over for a Sunday dinner, taking the strain off her Mum to have to do it all the time. Looking up the staircase, Ginny wondered how many bedrooms there were and how many children they could have to fill them.

Harry was looking at her with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Mmm, mmm," Ginny said. "Just daydreaming about what the activities in the garden could eventually lead to."

"What the activities…" Harry trailed off with a gulp.

"_You_ wanted a bigger house," Ginny insinuated.

"I wanted to get away from the reporters for your sake," Harry answered. "_That_ was the furthest thing from my mind!"

Ginny smirked. "You might want to think about bringing it up front."

"Are you pregnant?!" he yelped, causing Mrs. Smith, who had been heading up the staircase to pause on the first landing to gape down at them.

"Relax," Ginny said, following the agent. "I was just thinking this house had possibilities."

"You're about to give me a heart attack," Harry grumbled.

Ginny sent him a smug look as she started up the stairs, only to pause on the first landing to gaze at a lovely rosette stained glass window. Mrs. Smith turned at the top of the stairs on the first floor and looked back down at Harry and Ginny.

They continued up the next flight of stairs to join Mrs. Smith on a landing that contained three bedrooms and a full bath. Walking up two more flights of stairs, which again wrapped around each other, they offered up yet another rosette stained glass window. The top floor contained a dressing/sitting room with two doors, one leading to a large full bath and the other into an equally spacious bedroom.

"This is the master suite," Mrs. Smith informed them. "Initially it was laid out similar to the first floor, but the previous owners decided to give it a more open floor plan. There's a spacious walk-in wardrobe with a pull-down ladder that leads to the attic which has ample storage space."

"For our ample stuff," Ginny commented dryly.

Herself being from a poor family and Harry being an orphan who had been given nothing until he discovered he was a wizard and attended Hogwarts, neither of them had much to their names. Well, technically, Harry had loads of things, but neither of them wanted the horrible furniture at Grimmauld Place, and gold and family jewellry didn't count.

At the moment they had the furniture in their current one bedroom flat, all of which would fit in one of the sitting rooms downstairs.

"We're going to have to go shopping," Ginny commented, looking around.

"Is this the one?" Harry asked, taking in the vast amount of space that was only the master bedroom. "It has a lot of square footage."

"We'll have to fill it," Ginny said, smiling coyly at him and greatly enjoying the flush that graced his cheeks. "In the meantime, we can have Ron and Hermione over for the weekend, or Mum and Dad. They'll love it out here. And I imagine we could probably have a Quidditch paddock in the back garden."

"Oh most certainly!" Mrs. Smith gushed. "With the moor surrounding you and being so secluded, you won't have to worry about unwanted visitors. And of course, I am sure you know how to erect anti-detection spells, Mr. Potter."

"He's complete rubbish at those," Ginny airily replied. "That's why he married me."

Mrs. Smith looked between the two of them uncertainly before laughing quietly. "I'll leave you to look around at your own leisure and meet you out front when you are ready."

She promptly left them standing in the master bedroom and headed down the stairs. Ginny stared out one of two large bay windows that looked out over the vast purple heather-covered moor behind the house. Harry stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she leaned her head back against his chest.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"I think Mrs. Smith is going to be very happy we walked into her office this morning," Ginny answered.

She turned in Harry's arms and gazed up at him. He bent his head and kissed her softly.

"No more reporters," he murmured softly.

"We can live in peace and quiet," Ginny sighed. "Shall we tell her we'll buy it?"

"In a moment," Harry answered. "Let's make her wonder what we're doing up here."

He pulled her closer and kissed her again, and Ginny grinned against his lips. "Why, Mr. Potter, I believe I may be rubbing off on you."

Harry's grin turned to a grimace when the two-way mirror in his robe pocket vibrated between them and Ginny pouted, immensely displeased at being interrupted.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized, stepping back from her and removing the offending device. "Neville's on duty this weekend and I told him only to call if it was an emergency. I should take this, Gin."

She nodded and turned to survey the room once more before walking closer to one of the bay windows to gain a better glimpse of the stunning view. As she gazed out the window, she kept part of her attention focused on her husband's conversation.

Harry answered the call mulishly. "Potter."

Neville's anxious and troubled face appeared in the mirror and he looked guiltily out at Harry. "I'm really sorry to bother you, Harry," he began and waited for Harry to curtly nod his go ahead. "We have just received a call from Azkaban. Apparently, Draco Malfoy has requested an audience with you and claims it's urgent."

Harry scowled at his friend in the mirror. "Today? Number one, I don't consider this an emergency, two, it's my day off, three, it's Saturday, and four, Ginny's going to take the piss out of me if I leave now."

Neville grimaced. "I know, but the guards claim Malfoy was highly agitated to the point they had to restrain him."

Harry snorted. "What? Is his cell too damp?"

This response elicited a chuckle from Neville as well as Ginny. "I'm not sure, Harry. You certainly don't have to respond. It's up to you. How's the house hunting going?"

Harry grinned. "I think we found the one." Ginny walked back over to Harry and slid her arms around his waist as he said this and peeked past his arm at their friend.

"Hi, Ginny," Neville said sheepishly.

"Hello, Neville," she replied, not bothering to disguise her annoyance. "So, Malfoy wants to see Harry, hmm?"

Neville shrugged. "According to the Azkaban guards he's extremely distressed and is insisting that only Harry can help him."

Ginny guffawed. "Well, it only took three years for the incarceration to break him. I'm impressed."

"According to the warden, he's actually been a model prisoner," Neville remarked with a disgusted expression. "So good, in fact, that he's being considered for parole. So, what should I tell them, Harry?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at this as Harry sighed, and she knew what that meant. He was going. How could he refuse, since her own curiosity was piqued as to what Malfoy could possibly want with Harry after all these years.

"All right," Harry conceded. "Let me finish up here with the estate agent and I'll head over to Azkaban in about an hour or so."

"Thanks, Harry," Neville replied. "I'll let them know to expect you at any time. Again, I'm really sorry to bother you today."

Harry shook his head. "It's not your fault. I'll see you later." He shoved the mirror back into his pocket and turned towards Ginny. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're not," she replied, scowling up at him for a moment before grinning. "It's all right though. I'm as curious as you are. Just don't be long?"

Harry nodded and smiled at her. "We'll celebrate when I get home."

"I'm going to hold you to that, Mr. Potter," Ginny replied, snaking her arms around his neck and standing on her toes rubbed his nose with hers. Then they finished sharing their first kiss in what would hopefully become their first house.

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Draco followed the guard down the passage towards the interrogation room, unable to believe that Potter had actually agreed to see him. The last time he had seen Potter, Draco had stabbed him three times in a vain attempt to escape from going to trial. It had been foolish, and Draco had realized too late that it would more than likely seal his fate to serve time in Azkaban. Weasley had repeatedly punched him in the face even though Potter, despite his injuries, had already Stunned him nearly into oblivion.

However, after the nightmare and then the episode with the newspaper, Potter had been the only one Draco could think of who might be able to help him. By the time the guards had restrained him and he had been able to voice his request, they had looked at him as if he was crazy. It didn't help that _The Daily Prophet_ he was claiming had turned into an inky substance and slithered away was lying scattered over the floor of his cell where he had dropped it. Draco was no longer certain whether or not any of it had been real or if it all had been part of the nightmare.

The guard opened the door to the interrogation room and Draco paused before entering, fear gripping him. He suddenly wasn't so certain he was ready to face his old nemesis. However, the guard's patience with him was slight and he shoved Draco unceremoniously into the room and slammed the door behind him.

Potter was already there and seated at the interview table, impatiently tapping his fingers on the stony surface. Draco made no effort to move further into the room and his eyes roved over his old foe warily, noting how he'd traded in those stupid round black glasses for sleek and stylish tortoise-shell frames and taking in his black hair that was cut long and curled over the collar of the crisply starched white dress shirt with a loosely knotted black tie he was wearing under his equally neat and pressed Aurors robes. Draco couldn't see his trousers, but he imagined they were perfectly creased as well, and his shoes shined, and he had to admit the whole ensemble was more than a little intimidating and a far cry from the dishevelled look Potter had sported all through Hogwarts. The only flaw was a battered and worn watch that Potter had casually just spared a glance at while waiting for Draco to pluck up the courage to speak.

"If you are done with the inspection, would you mind getting on with whatever it is you thought necessary to say to me?" Harry asked impatiently.

Draco smirked, feeling a bit of his hesitancy ebb. "I see they at least taught you some basic observation skills. That must have been excruciating for your instructors, getting anything into that thick skull of yours."

"Not nearly as excruciating as your time spent here, I imagine," Harry dryly commented.

"No thanks to you," Draco spat.

"I'm not the one who decided to stab me," Harry countered. "You would have probably only received a slap on the wrist and a pat on the bottom with a warning 'to be a good boy from now on' if you hadn't decided to pull that stupid stunt."

"Call us even then," Draco replied, staring at Harry. "Only, you always managed to get the better end of the deal where punishment was concerned. I suppose that is what happens when you have the headmaster in your back pocket."

"Sectumsempra was an accident," Harry said quietly. "I'd have never used that spell on you if I had known what it did, and both Albus and Severus knew that. You, on the other hand, knew what you were doing when you stabbed me. You can add that to the already long list of poor decisions you have made in your life."

"You've always been self-righteous," Draco scowled.

"No," Harry replied. "I've always been right, there's a difference. I didn't come here to trade barbs with you, Malfoy. I have better things to do."

"I heard you married the Weaslette," Draco said changing his tack. "I bet sporting your name has helped her career."

Harry glared over at Draco. "I didn't come here to discuss my wife with you either." Shoving his seat back, Harry rose quickly and strode towards the other door in the room.

"Wait!" Draco called, hating the desperation that had suddenly leaked into his voice. Harry paused with his hand on the doorknob, but didn't turn back. "I need your help."

Harry snorted. "And demeaning me and my wife would make me want to help you because?"

Draco swallowed his pride. "I'm sorry. It's reflexive with you. I see you and all the old injuries resurface."

"I never did anything to you, Malfoy," Harry replied, turning back around to glare at him.

"You wouldn't be my friend," Draco admitted.

Harry looked confused and then angry. "You only wanted to be my friend because I was supposedly famous! And how do you think belittling people would make them ever want to be your friend?"

"I didn't ask you here to fight over old grievances," Draco said, deflating. "I wanted to talk to you about Voldemort. You're the only one who understood him."

Harry's eyes flared with anger again. "I never understood him. He was a soulless monster."

Draco recoiled from the ire rolling off Potter and scrambled to explain himself better. "That's not what I meant. It's just, you always seemed to know more about him than anyone. I had a nightmare about him this morning more real than any I've ever had. It started out as a memory, but then in the nightmare he was threatening me with something he couldn't know anything about."

Harry shook his head in exasperation. "_I_ still have nightmares that feel as real as if they were actually happening, but that doesn't make me think he's back, Malfoy."

Draco ran his hand through his hair in frustration, realizing he wasn't making any sense. "No, there's more. My newspaper hissed at me and turned into a black sludgy snake that disappeared down the drain in my cell."

"And this makes you think Voldemort has returned?" Harry asked incredulously.

"He always spoke with my father about having ways to return," Draco pressed. "I know if he could he would."

"Believe me when I tell you, that's not going to happen," Harry remarked acidly.

"How can I convince you?" Draco pleaded, disgusted to hear himself begging to Potter of all people, but powerless to stop himself.

Harry snorted. "You can't. Thanks for this unenlightening conversation, Malfoy. It's been my displeasure, as always."

This time Harry didn't wait for Draco to speak further, and shoving the door open, stormed through it, leaving Draco alone in the cold interrogation room. Draco remained rooted to the spot wondering how everything could have changed so much yet still be the same.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny sat at the kitchen table in her and Harry's flat banging her head against her folded arms in frustration. She had just ended a Floo call with her mother that had not gone at all as she had planned. After finishing up with the preliminary paperwork with Mrs. Smith, she had rushed home and since Harry was off at Azkaban, Ginny decided she would call her mother and tell her the good news.

However, as soon as her mother had answered she had immediately begun to lecture Ginny regarding the latest article about Harry and Ginny to appear in _The Daily Prophet_ and by the time she had stopped to take a breath, all of Ginny's excitement over the house had diminished to the point that she hadn't even bothered to tell her mother. Instead, she had spent the remainder of the call in a vain attempt to convince her mother that whatever the article had said was grossly exaggerated. The conversation had ended with Ginny yelling at her mother about the injustice of her own mum believing the word of some wanker journalist over her own flesh and blood.

As soon as her mother's face had disappeared from the flames, calling out a final lecturing sentence about her daughter's unladylike language, Ginny had sorted through the daily post that was piled on the hall table and found the offending article. She was revolted with the headline and picture which made her and Harry out to be bumbling buffoons. It was all one of her fellow chasers, Rachel Tyler's fault. She had unthinkingly thought it would be funny to trip Harry up as he departed and then had shoved Ginny unceremoniously out the door as well. The end result had been the two of them covered in mud, but they certainly hadn't rowed as the article claimed. Not to mention, that since Rachel couldn't be seen in the picture it did appear that Harry and Ginny were falling down drunk.

Actually, at the time of the incident they had all thought it was extremely funny and she and Harry had had a very memorable evening together when they had returned home to wash off all the mud. Now the memory of the whole affair was sullied by having been literally and figuratively dragged through the mud.

_Not fair, not fair!_ She kept thinking over and over to herself until the sound of Harry stumbling out of the fireplace and clattering into the coffee table broke through her reverie. Pushing her chair back, Ginny hurried into the sitting room to find him grimly rubbing his knee.

"How about not placing the coffee table in front of the grate in the new house?" Harry groused as he flopped onto the couch.

"We'll talk about that later," Ginny said, joining him on the couch. "What did Malfoy want?"

Harry snorted. "You won't believe why he called me out there. He had a nightmare and suddenly thinks Voldemort's ghost is out for blood."

"That's absurd," Ginny scoffed. "What did he think you would be able to do? Tell the mean old ghosty to go away?"

"You're not far from it actually, Ginny. Malfoy seemed to think since I 'understood' Voldemort," Harry said with undisguised ire as he made quotation marks in the air, "I'd be able to sort it all out."

"I hope you told him where he could shove it," Ginny remarked, scrunching her face up in disgust. "He has some nerve, the git."

"Trust me," Harry said. "I made it very clear what I thought of him and his codswallop. So, what is going on here?"

Ginny sighed, "Oh, there was another article in the _Prophet_ about us today that has Mum's dander up. I called her to tell her about the house and before I could she began lecturing me again on our behaviour."

Harry grimaced. "That bad?"

"Remember that time when Rachel tripped us up?" Ginny asked.

Harry grinned. "Yeah, it was a lark. I should have thanked her for that – you all covered in mud was downright sexy." His eyes glassed over at the thought, and Ginny punched him on the arm to knock him out of his pleasant reverie.

"Well, after you read the article they wrote about it, you won't think so," Ginny griped.

Harry winced and asked again. "It's that bad?"

"One of the worst," Ginny replied. "We look like complete twits, Harry."

Harry groaned. "I'm really sorry, Gin. Maybe we should buy our own pub as well as a house to cover all our bases."

Ginny snorted. "Harry, we'd have to buy a whole town in order to keep reporters from harassing us."

"So, I suppose you weren't able to tell your mum about the house?" Harry asked.

"No," Ginny said, shaking her head sadly. "I was so upset, all the joy had been leeched out of me by the time she finished her tirade."

"I'm sorry, love," Harry soothed. "I know it can be difficult at times."

Ginny nestled next to him on the couch and sighed contentedly. "It can be, but I'm still excited about the house."

"Good," Harry said, draping his arm around her shoulders. "It'll be nice to have a bigger place. Our flat has been feeling cramped whenever we have Teddy and Victoire over."

Ginny smiled at the thought of her three-year-old niece and Remus and Tonks' five-year-old. Teddy was a wild, rambunctious boy and Victoire a demure but outspoken little girl and when the two of them were together, it was always a whirlwind of activity. Their energy was boundless and usually the flat wound up looking as if two tiny tornados had torn through it after the children left.

"They'll definitely have a lot more room to make a mess," Ginny conceded.

"Maybe we should think about turning one of the bedrooms on the first floor into a playroom," Harry suggested. "Hopefully, some of the mess will be confined then."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "Why Harry, that sounds as if you are planning for the future."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for our own just yet," Harry said, gently rubbing her arm. "But there's no harm planning ahead, and practicing in the meantime."

"We could practice now if you're feeling up to it," Ginny offered.

"Tiddlywinks or Exploding Snap?" Harry inquired mischievously.

"How about both?" Ginny replied, sliding out from underneath his arm and onto his lap, giving him a tantalizing kiss which Harry wasted no time in returning. _Practicing was a lot of fun,_ Ginny thought contentedly as she pushed her dear, sweet husband back against the couch and took control of the parlour games.


	3. Ch 2 - Ghosts of Nightmares Past

**Author's Notes: **Many thanks to my fantastic betas, Arnel, Seekers_Destiny, and Carolyn Jinn for all their hard work. And now for a bit of Harry/Ginny fluff, enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry was surprised to find himself once again in the pristine white version of King's Cross he had visited when Voldemort had killed him. Glancing down, he was thankful to see that at least he was fully clothed this time around. Looking back up, he waited expectantly for Professor Dumbledore to arrive. It would be nice to visit with him again, maybe sit and tell him everything that had transpired in the past four years. Talking to Professor Dumbledore's portrait that hung in the atrium of the Ministry wasn't quite the same as talking to him in person. The portrait was able to produce all the little pearls of wisdom that Professor Dumbledore always seemed to have, but they lacked his conviction.

A train whistle sounded down the track, startling Harry. The train had never arrived before, and he definitely had no intention of boarding. He had left Ginny in their nice warm bed in their flat and he really would like to return to her.

The rumble of the train grew steadily closer and still there was no sign of Professor Dumbledore anywhere. Stepping closer to the edge of the platform, Harry peered down the track and saw a sleek, pearly white express train come around a bend, headed towards the station. The windows of the cars where opaque and try as he might, Harry could not see inside of them. All he could see were dark shadows moving about and for some reason instead of instilling him with a sense of peace, they had the opposite effect and he felt a strong sense of foreboding. He backed away from the platform until his legs bumped against a bench.

Looking quickly around for the exit, he spotted some stairs leading up, hopefully to the outside. As much as he would like to possibly see Professor Dumbledore or even his parents, he felt an urgent need to depart this place. He was just turning to take a step when a clawed hand reached out from beneath the bench and latched onto his ankle with a viselike grip. Harry yelped in surprise and jerked his leg, attempting to shake off the hand. A horrible creature, he couldn't tell if it was human or monster crawled out from under the bench and Harry blanched in horror at the sight. It was the scrap of Voldemort's soul that had been left here Harry supposed when he departed.

"Get me on that train!" it hissed up at him in a squealing voice that made Harry's ears ring.

"NO!" Harry yelled, and reached down to yank the thing forcefully off of him.

It coiled its skinny little arms around his arm and clamped down on his forearm with its mouth, causing Harry to howl in agony. It ripped and tore at him, as he tried to fight the creature.

"Yesssss!" it hissed.

Harry could feel his strength waning, as if the thing were sucking the life-force out of him. He could not allow it on the train; who knew how many innocent souls were aboard? His mother and father could be on the other side of one of those doors waiting for him. He would not bring this devil to them; they had suffered enough.

Summoning his fading strength, Harry stumbled towards the train as its engine rumbled into the station. He made to head for the first car, but as the whistle blew and the train began to slow, Harry ran towards the front and flung himself and the creature down onto the tracks. The creature howled in rage as the train charged towards them and Harry closed his eyes bracing himself for the impact.

"HARRY POTTER!" the creature screamed in his ear only to be drowned out by the wail of the train whistle.

"Harry!" His body shook as the train hit him. "HARRY! Wake up!"

Harry sat bolt upright in his bed, his breath ragged and immediately looked down at his arm, rubbing it where the soul shard had bitten him. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he felt a dull ache in his scar that nearly made him sicker than his dream had. Not again.

"Harry," Ginny whispered softly from his side. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head, and cradled his head in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees. He couldn't tell Ginny about the dream. It was too horrible for words, and too real. This was all Malfoy's fault. He had summoned these old demons with his pleas and insinuations that Voldemort was coming back.

"Harry, please," Ginny pleaded, drawing him to her and pulling his head into her lap. "Tell me."

"Just a nightmare," he rasped, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her thigh. "Just a nightmare."

"You haven't had a nightmare in ages," she whispered, stroking his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head mutely. "It wasn't real," Harry whispered.

"No, love, it wasn't real," Ginny murmured, and bent down to gently kiss his temple.

Ginny's lips, fingers in his hair, soft skin under his cheek, warm breath in his ear, silky hair sliding over his shoulder as she leaned over him, all of these things were real, the nightmare was not. Harry clung to his wife, his life-line to reality and shoved the new horrifying images to the deep dark corners of his mind where all the others lurked.

Tomorrow, in the light of day, he would feel better. After all, it was only a nightmare and nothing more. A nightmare caused by the memories Malfoy had stirred up with his ramblings of Voldemort returning in some ethereal form to haunt them. Harry shook the thought away. Why had it taken him four years then? Harry tried not to think of the fact that it had taken Voldemort ten years before his last attempt to return.

"Try to go back to sleep?" Ginny cooed softly in his ear.

He nodded and she lay back down, pulling him with her, wrapping her arms around him and resting his head on her bosom. Her chest rose and fell gently and he could faintly hear her heartbeat. As soothing as it was, it was a long time before Harry fell back into a fitful sleep.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When Harry walked into his office at the Ministry Monday morning and saw the mountain of paperwork sitting in his inbox on his desk he audibly sighed. Flopping into the chair behind his desk, he turned it away from the offensive sight and instead gazed out the window. Of course, seeing as how the Ministry was miles underground, the view from his window was merely an illusion of his choosing. At the moment it was set to show the cliffs of Dover and the channel beyond. The dark, stormy clouds gathering in the sky matched Harry's mood precisely and he settled his head back against the chair to observe.

The nightmare had plagued him Sunday as well, and he had woken once again in the middle of the night, arousing Ginny. She had begged him to tell her, but he just couldn't and both had fallen back into an uneasy sleep. In the morning, they'd shared a very subdued breakfast and Ginny had given him a searching look before kissing him good-bye and heading to work. They were scheduled to meet with the estate agent, Mrs. Smith this evening to sign the final paperwork and after that, they would be free to move into their new house.

Harry tried to focus on that positive aspect of his life and began daydreaming of finally having a chance to fly on his broom on a more regular basis. His daydreams turned to dozing and that's how Ron found him twenty minutes later.

"Rough night, mate?" Ron's voice broke into Harry's dream of flying over the moor.

Jolting awake, Harry spun in the chair to spy his friend leaning against the doorjamb as his elbow knocked into the inbox and the pile of parchment cascaded to the floor.

"Bugger!" Harry yelped, trying in vain to catch the falling stack of paperwork. "What'd you do that for?"

"What'd I do?" Ron asked, pulling his wand and flicking it at the parchment. Both men watched the parchment stack neatly back into the now righted inbox.

Harry looked sheepishly up at his friend. "Funny, how I still sometimes forget about magic."

Ron shook his head and entered the office. "So, like I said before, rough night?"

Harry sighed, debating whether or not he should confide in Ron about his dreams, but for some unnamed reason he was afraid. It was silly, really. Ron was his best mate, more than likely he'd tell Harry it was stress related or somehow reassure him the dreams meant nothing. Harry kept reminding himself that Voldemort was dead, but the fear etched on Malfoy's face kept flashing before Harry's eyes and his own cold dread he felt the two times so far he had had the dream.

"You could say that," Harry finally answered.

"You and Ginny get pissed with the Harpies again?" Ron asked.

"No!" Harry griped. "We don't do that that often."

"That's not what the _Prophet_ says," Ron commented, poking at a sad-looking plant Neville had given Harry when he'd been promoted. "This thing needs water."

Harry ignored him as he zeroed in on his friend's previous comment. "Please tell me you don't actually believe all that rubbish they print about Gin and me in the _Prophet_?"

Ron shrugged. "I suppose not, but Mum's still hacked off with the two of you for showing up sloshed at the last family dinner, not to mention the latest article."

"That dinner was an extenuating circumstance!" Harry exclaimed. "The Harpies had just won a spot in the finals! And as far as that article goes, you know all about that evening because I told you about it."

Ron grimaced. "Oh right, and I'll tell you what I told you then, 'too much information'. But admit it, Harry, you had to have been drunk, otherwise how did a little girl like Rachel trip you up? Doesn't look too good for an up-and-coming Senior Auror to have been gotten the better of by a Quidditch player." Ron chuckled at the image.

Harry scrubbed his hands across his face in frustration. "Ron, I was not pissed then and am I'm not hung-over today. I have a serious problem on my hands at the moment."

Ron sobered immediately and looked at his friend. "What? You and Ginny fighting or something?"

Harry shook his head. "No, we're good." He paused, deliberating what to say next. "I… I've been having these strange nightmares about Voldemort."

Ron blanched at the sound of a name that they hadn't mentioned in years and gazed at Harry with widened eyes. "You haven't complained about nightmares in months. What gives?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Draco Malfoy requested that I see him on Saturday. When I went, he looked as if he had seen a ghost and tried to convince me that Voldemort was back and wanted to kill him."

Harry was expecting a myriad of reactions from his friend, but for Ron to laugh was not one of them.

"Are you taking the mickey out on me?" Ron asked, between gasps for air. "Draco Malfoy told you he thought Old Moldy Voldy has risen from the grave and you believed him?"

"I know," Harry sighed, turning to gaze back out his window. "It's just, the dreams seem so real and," he hesitated, afraid to say that his scar had tingled faintly, like a ghost of what he would have felt when Voldemort had been alive. The sensation had made him want to vomit not from pain like his scar used to cause him, but from the fear of what it could possibly mean. It was the main reason he hadn't said anything to Ginny. He knew the Horcrux was gone, but he wondered, if it were possible for Voldemort to come back in a spectral form, if his scar would be affected, like a phantom limb of sorts.

"After the dreams, my scar has been tingling, like there's ice on it," Harry finally admitted, looking up at his oldest friend.

Ron stared back at him and barely whispered. "Don't even joke about that, mate. The Horcrux is gone, and you know it."

"Don't talk about it here!" Harry hissed. "The last thing I want is for that getting out, Ron! Nobody knows except you, me, Hermione, and Ginny."

"I'm sorry," Ron said contritely. "But listen to yourself. There's no way it's him. He's dead and buried. You saw to it. Whatever it is, it's not him. It's all the stress over our current case getting to you and Malfoy making you paranoid. He's probably over in his cell having a good laugh thinking about it. Voldemort's dead, mate," Ron stated firmly. "He's been dead for well over four years, and he's not coming back, as a ghost or otherwise. He's not."

Harry nodded. "I just needed to hear it, you know? I couldn't tell Ginny about my scar, I was afraid she would freak out."

"She would have," Ron agreed. "Thanks for saving the freak out for me, mate. You about gave me a heart attack there for a moment. Do you want me to go over to Azkaban and kick Malfoy around a bit for giving you a scare?"

Harry snorted with laughter, which felt good after the past two days. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

"Hey, us Weasleys, we look out for our own, you know," Ron said lightly, but his eyes were boring into Harry assessing his mental state.

"I feel better, Ron," Harry said. "Talking it out with you has helped immensely. I'm sure you're right, and it's all the stress lately. I do have a bit of good news to share, Gin and I bought a house." Harry felt his mood lighten with the happy change of subject.

Ron smiled broadly. "That's great, Harry. Where's it located?"

"North Yorkshire, not far from the village of Pickering," Harry said, perking up. "We sign the papers tonight. It's going to be great. Lots of open moor, and a large walled garden, so privacy is at a premium. Ginny and I are already making plans for a Quidditch pitch. It'll be good to fly again and we want you and Hermione to visit."

"Whoa," Ron said, chuckling. "You have to move in first."

"Well, yeah, there's that," Harry conceded. "But you'll love it."

"I'm sure," Ron agreed. "Listen, I'd better run, my inbox looks about like yours, so if we don't get started we won't be seeing our wives for dinner. Lunch today?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Harry said, sighing as he glanced at his inbox again. Ron nodded and backed out, leaving Harry alone again. He did feel better since talking it out with Ron, and hoped the good feeling lasted. Focusing on work was bound to take his mind off things as well, so settling in, Harry drew the stack towards him and began his work for the day.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny breathlessly met Harry outside the estate agent's office a little after six o'clock that evening. It was conveniently located next door to Gringotts and Ginny hoped Harry had had the foresight to stop in and inform the goblins they were about to make an extremely large purchase so the bank didn't hassle them with Floo calls at ungodly hours asking them if everything was all right.

The one other time she and Harry had spent an exorbitant amount of money was two years ago when Harry insisted on buying a 1963 black Austin Healey 3000 with a matching convertible top and a lusciously soft tan leather interior. Ginny had to admit it was a beautiful car, but it had cost 20,000 pounds, which converted into how many galleons, she had no idea, but enough that Gringotts had contacted them at the crack of dawn the next day to confirm the purchase. The car now sat in her parents' garage, as she and Harry had no place to store it and she could count on one hand the number of times they had actually gone for a drive in it. Her father had more than likely secretly driven the car more times than they had, as he had drooled buckets when they had driven up in it.

"Sorry, I'm late," Ginny rushed out as she approached. "I was accosted by some fans at the Leaky, but I mentioned to Tom we may stop back in for a bite when we are through at the estate office."

"That's fine by me," Harry replied. "So, are you ready to sign about a million pieces of parchment?"

"Completely," Ginny said, grinning madly. "I'm so excited! I kept thinking about the house all day! I want to see it again and live there already."

"Well, the sooner we see Mrs. Smith, the sooner we can call Wildebrook ours," Harry stated, and held the door to the office open for Ginny.

As soon as she and Harry entered the office, Mrs. Smith was greeting them enthusiastically and ushering them towards a meeting room. They took their seats at one side of a large conference table and Mrs. Smith sat across from them. She placed an inch thick pile of parchment on the table in front of her and pulled out a self-inking quill from her breast pocket.

"Now, Mr. and Mrs. Potter," Mrs. Smith began. "This shouldn't take long at all. Thank you, Mr. Potter for contacting Gringotts in advance, as it will make everything go much smoother. They have already sent over the 500,000 galleons to cover the purchase of the house."

Ginny squeezed his knee under the table, signalling her pleasure that he had indeed thought ahead, to which Harry smiled. As Mrs. Smith predicted, it didn't take more than half an hour to discuss and sign all the necessary documents, at the end of which she handed over the deed to the house.

She stood up and reached over to shake each of their hands. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Potter, you are the new owners of Wildebrook. I hope you will be happy there and if you ever think of selling or purchasing other properties in the future you will consider me again."

"Of course, Mrs. Smith," Harry said warmly. "It's been a wonderful experience for us. I am sure Gin and I will come to you first if we ever find ourselves in the market to sell or buy."

Mrs. Smith beamed and escorted them out. Once she had closed the office door behind them, Ginny squealed in delight. "We're home owners! We should go see it again this weekend. I'm fairly certain I'll have the weekend off, how about you? Then we can go shopping, buy some furniture, and start packing."

Harry chuckled as he took her hand and they headed down the lane towards the Leaky Cauldron. "I think I can manage some time off, and maybe we could drive the car up there. That'd be fun."

Ginny pouted. "That will take all day!" She glanced over at her husband, who suddenly looked incredibly guilty and her jaw dropped. "Please tell me you did not let my father tinker with our car." She waited for him to answer, but when none was forthcoming, Ginny railed on. "Harry James Potter! How could you? After all the trouble you and Ron caused with the Ford Anglia!"

"He practically begged me, Gin," Harry said contritely. "How could I say no after we had ruined the Anglia? It was the least I could do."

"Does my mother know?" Ginny asked, already knowing the answer before he replied with a very meek 'no'. "I'm surprised you didn't just up and give him the Austin Healey."

"Well," Harry said. "I tried, but he absolutely refused. He said tinkering with it would be enough. So, since it's done and all, we could fly it for most of the way and then drive the rest and cut the time to the new house down to two to three hours at the most."

Ginny shook her head. "Sometimes, love you are such a – boy. It will be fun to go for a short drive though."

Harry grinned as he opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron and held it open for her. Ginny stepped inside to the strains of a piano and Tom waved to them from the bar, pointing to a table that contained a reserved sign on it. Taking Harry's hand, Ginny wove through the other tables to reach theirs. Glancing up at the small stage not far from their table, Ginny was surprised to see Willow Starling, her best friend from her Hogwarts days performing.

Willow had been one of Ginny's best friends since their second year at Hogwarts along with Demelza Robbins and Colin Creevey. Colin had always had a crush on Willow and in their fourth year, the two began seeing each other. It was clear that they were completely in love to the point that during their horrific sixth year Willow had left Hogwarts as soon as she turned seventeen to be with Colin, who being Muggle-born had been forced into hiding.

When Colin died, Willow had been beside herself with grief, unable to play her music or barely function, and on top of all of that she had discovered she was pregnant. It took her a long time to overcome the loss of Colin, but the birth of her son, Nathan, had helped immensely. He was now four years old, cute as a button, and the spitting image of his father. Ginny assumed he must be staying with either Willow's or Colin's parents, since her friend was here tonight.

Willow's head was bowed over the keyboard as she played and her long ash-blonde hair hid most of her face. The long sleeves of her pale pink robes hung down and draped on the piano bench she sat upon. Ginny nearly did a double take when she and Harry were seated, as it seemed most of the material of Willow's robes was contained in the sleeves. The hem of the robe came just below mid-thigh and quite an expanse of Willow's milky white skin was exposed to her knees where the tops of a pair of dark brown leather boots flared out. Most of the wizards in the Leaky were mesmerized and looking over at Harry, Ginny was annoyed to see his eyes glued to her friend's legs as well.

"Ahem!" Ginny coughed and cuffed him across the back of his head. "Eyes back in your head, Harry."

"I was just thinking how that outfit would look on you," Harry sheepishly remarked. "Willow's come out of her shell, wouldn't you say?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Willow was never shy, Harry, merely soft-spoken. And she usually lets her music speak for her."

If Ginny thought the articles written about her and Harry were bad, it was nothing compared to what Willow had been put through. The papers had not been kind to Willow when her band, the Mechanical Fairies became better known. Having a child out of wed-lock was still greatly frowned upon in the Wizarding world and as soon as Willow became successful, articles being printed about her were scathing, and practically every day denounced her and her child, warning young witches and wizards not to listen to the Mechanical Fairies or else suffer the same fate as Willow. One story had gone so far as to actually insinuate that the reason Colin had died was because he and Willow had had relations outside of marriage. It was enough to make Ginny sick that anyone would stoop so low and say such a horrible and hurtful thing.

Of course, the whole campaign against Willow and her band had backfired tremendously, and if anything, had caused more people to listen to their music. The song she was now playing was extremely melancholy, and Ginny couldn't say it was her favourite, but she knew her friend had written it at the height of all the ridicule.

"This song is dead depressing," Harry whispered in her ear, causing Ginny to smile. "Doesn't she ever write anything a little cheerier?"

"She used to," Ginny remarked. "Most people enjoy this sort of music though and she has a deep well to pull from."

"I know that," Harry said sounding chastened. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"I know, love," Ginny said. "I was just thinking how depressing it is, too."

"All I can think about right now is how I felt when my Nimbus was destroyed by the Whomping Willow," Harry complained.

"If that is the worst memory this song is dredging up, consider yourself lucky," Ginny griped. "I keep thinking about my first kiss with Michael Corner."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged. "It was simply horrible," Ginny replied and then grinned mischievously. "But not nearly as bad as yours, I would imagine."

"Oh, thanks a lot," Harry groaned. "Now _that's_ all I can think about. Why did you have to bring that up for?"

"Misery loves company," Ginny remarked.

A waitress appeared at their table and they gave their order just as Willow finished her current song and went straight into a lighter melody that was much more enjoyable. Willow sang into the microphone set up next to the piano about getting caught in a sudden sun shower and romping in the puddles while her clothes clung to her skin.

"And now for something completely different," Harry quipped.

Ginny snorted. "I'll say, but you can't possibly complain about this one."

Harry nodded in agreement and reached across the table for her hand, which she gently curled underneath his larger one. They listened in companionable silence and Harry absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb against the palm of her hand, alternately tickling her and then sending shivers down her spine. The combination of Willow's song and his touch made Ginny think of the first time he held her hand like this and the second time he kissed her, and she had to wonder what he was thinking.

"What does this song make you think of?" Ginny asked, leaning towards him over the table.

Harry smiled at her. "How much I want to kiss you right now."

"What's stopping you?" Ginny asked.

Harry's eyes flicked around the pub before locking back with hers. "Nothing, except, well, except nothing." He met her in the middle of the table and kissed her lightly on the lips. Ginny closed her eyes and let the moment wash over her. It couldn't be more perfect, the music, his touch, his kiss and then the waitress dropped two plates of fish and chips on the table along with their pints, her eyes twinkling in amusement as she walked away.

Sighing, Ginny sat back in her chair, trying not to laugh at Harry's face, which was as red as her hair, and took a long draught of her pint. As she set her drink down, Willow looked up from her keyboard and smiled broadly when she saw Ginny and Harry. Ginny beamed back and waved and her friend dug into another song that was Ginny's absolute favourite because it was the one she and Harry had shared their first dance to.

She had to say that this evening had turned out to be one of the best she and Harry had spent in public in a long time. It was nice to sit and be able to reflect on happy memories or even some of the awkward ones from their youth for a change. Not to mention that they had just bought a gorgeous house they would be moving into as soon as they were able to pack up all of their things. She beamed over at her husband who returned her smile and she absolutely could not wait for Saturday to arrive.


	4. Ch 3 - Out of Sight, Out of Mind

**Author's Note: **Once again, all of my thanks go out to my fantastic betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny. They are the cat's meow and deserve a round of applause (polite clapping) This is a fairly fluffy chapter, so enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

It was a gorgeous day on Saturday, with a bright blue sky devoid of any clouds and the drive/flight from Devon to Yorkshire only took two hours as opposed to the seven it would have. Ginny enjoyed it immensely, especially the flying, although she would never tell Harry that. It was nearly as exhilarating as flying on a broom, but with the added comfort of sitting in a soft, leather seat. The invisibility booster her father had installed in the car worked like a charm and Harry had commented that clearly her father had worked all the bugs out over the years. Ginny had to wonder what her father had tested it on, since he had never owned another car after the Ford Anglia.

Driving the Austin Healey with the top down was very nearly like flying as well, and Ginny understood a little better why Muggles enjoyed fast, convertible cars. She had to wonder why more magical people didn't own cars as well, and she had to assume it was because the thought of owning anything that was Muggle-made was horrifying to them. They simply didn't know what they were missing.

Harry was enjoying driving the car so much, he nearly missed the turn-off for the lane that would lead to Wildebrook and jerked the wheel wildly, causing the car to fishtail as it attempted to find purchase on the gravel drive. Ginny squealed in delight at the sheer terror the motion of the car caused while Harry white-knuckled the steering wheel until he regained control.

He blew out his breath in relief. "Well, we very nearly wound up in the ditch."

"And you say I'm a bad driver," Ginny teased.

Harry glanced over at her. "You are. You seem to forget there are other vehicles sharing the road when you drive."

"You're just jealous because I'm a risk taker," Ginny remarked.

"If you call turning in front of an oncoming lorry taking a risk," Harry replied. "You would be correct, but not in a good way."

"Spoil sport," Ginny pouted.

"I'll buy you your own car and you can do whatever you like when you are behind the wheel," Harry retorted.

"I can buy my own car, thank you," Ginny quipped. "I make more than you now, remember?"

"Does that mean I can quit my job, then?" Harry asked.

"As if you ever would," Ginny responded just as Wildebrook came into view. It was more stunning driving up to it than it had been merely Apparating in the turnaround as they had done when Mrs. Smith showed them the house, and she was glad Harry had talked her into the drive.

Four broad stone steps led up to the heavy oak front door that had Victorian bevelled glass windows on either side, a detail Ginny had not taken note of the first time they saw the creamy brick three-storied house. The two front rooms contained large bay windows that looked out over the gravel turn-around, garden and the drive and the squared grey slate roof contained two gables symmetrically placed on this side as well as the back. There was a chimney on either side of the house, and if Ginny remembered correctly there had been fireplaces in both front rooms as well as the master suite.

There was a large oak tree to the right of the gravel turn-around as well as some smaller yews scattered about. She knew there were several birch trees behind the house and a willow as well as an elm tree within the walled portion of the garden. Otherwise, it was surrounded by wide-open countryside with some scrubby brush and lots of grass and heather.

Stepping out of the car, Ginny stretched her arms over her head while Harry opened the boot and removed the few things they had brought with them, which mainly consisted of a picnic lunch.

"Harry," Ginny gushed as she took a deep breath. "It's even more beautiful than I remembered it! We should have moved in today!"

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. "There's only the troubling factor of having to pack up the flat."

Ginny scrunched her nose up in disdain. "Don't remind me. How are we ever going to find the time to do that?"

"We'll worry about that later," Harry replied. "Let's just enjoy the day."

"We should walk-through the house first," Ginny suggested, taking the McGonagall tartan blanket from him that had been a wedding gift from Professor McGonagall. They had used it quite often, going on picnics near The Burrow and various other places, and Ginny envisioned many a summer's and pleasant fall day in the future sitting on the blanket enjoying the beautiful countryside.

Harry pulled out his wand and unlocked the front door. Ginny followed him into the wide foyer and took a moment to gaze about. Two large arched doorways on either side of the foyer led into the spacious front rooms that contained the large bay windows. Ginny loved the bay windows that were in these rooms as well as the master suite and thought they might just very well be her favourite features of the house. She already had plans to purchase bright seat cushions for at least the ones in the bedroom so she could curl up in a corner with a quilt and look out the window while she sipped tea and looked through magazines or read a book.

Glancing above their heads she took note of the ornate iron chandelier that was covered in dust and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, and that they would have to clean it eventually. However, regardless of how much cleaning was in their future she absolutely loved this house.

She placed the blanket on the bottom stair and walked into the room to the left of the door and stood in the middle, gazing about while Harry set the basket down and followed after her.

The room had a large fireplace on the sidewall and another smaller chandelier in the ceiling. This room led directly into the kitchen and Ginny thought it would make an excellent dining room. They could easily fit a table that would seat fourteen which would be enough for all the adults in their immediate family.

Walking through the room, she and Harry entered the kitchen, which was long, but not as wide as the dining room to accommodate the pantry and W.C. It had plenty of work space that contained a hob and oven, as well as a double sink with a window above overlooking the side of the garden. There was a space to the right of the entrance for a Muggle refrigerator, but she thought they could easily convert that into more shelving or even a small nook with a desk. There was plenty of room for a small table, and Ginny thought the one they already had would do nicely, since she imagined they would take most of their meals here and leave the dining room for entertaining only. Next to the refrigerator nook was a door that led into the walk-in pantry.

The sunroom off the kitchen at the back of the house allowed plenty of light to shine into the room, which she especially liked since she always thought of the kitchen being the heart of any home and it was much better when it was warm, bright, and cosy.

A short passage led from the back of the kitchen past the W.C. to a smaller sitting room at the back of the house. This room contained two tall windows set in the walls at the corner of the house and then along the remainder of the side wall was a built-in bookcase.

"This would make a nice study for you, Harry," Ginny commented, looking around. "I think Mrs. Smith mentioned something about this being a sitting or music room, but we don't really need two sitting rooms or a music room."

Harry nodded his agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. Maybe if I had a proper place to do some work, I wouldn't have to stay at the office so much."

"That would be nice, love," Ginny said. "We could add French doors to both entryways so you could close them if you needed more privacy."

"It's odd that there aren't any doors," Harry mused, as they walked into the remaining room on the ground floor, which was the other front room opposite the dining room. It had a smaller fireplace than the dining room however above the fireplace hung an old mirror with wall sconces on either side.

"I like that feature, actually," Ginny said in answer to Harry's comment about the lack of doors. "It gives the ground floor a nice open feel. I think it reflects the countryside."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her. "That's a keen architectural observation."

"I know what's aesthetically pleasing to the eye is all," Ginny remarked, turning around to contemplate her husband. "Take you for instance. I bet you didn't even think about what the sight of you in that white dress shirt, black dragonhide jacket, jeans and black boots would do to me."

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes, I think you should," Ginny replied, stepping up to him and running her hands over his shoulders. "I like this jacket."

Harry smiled gamely at her. "I should hope so, you gave it to me."

"I know," Ginny said, kissing him lightly, and taking his hand. "I've seen enough of the downstairs. Let's go have our picnic."

"Don't you want to see the rest of the house first?" Harry asked, as he followed her like a puppy dog towards the stairs."

"Aren't you hungry, Harry?" Ginny asked, picking up the basket and handing it to him before draping the blanket over his shoulder as well.

"Yes," he answered, taking in her white blouse, short pleated grey wool skirt, and knee-high black boots, that she had chosen with meticulous care that morning, knowing it was one of his favourites.

"Then we are in agreement," Ginny said and pulled him back outside and around the side of the house towards the garden. As they headed down the garden path that led to the walled garden, she glanced over her shoulder to catch a view of the back of the house and as her eyes travelled towards the roof she thought she saw the vague outline of someone tall standing in one of the attic gable windows.

"Harry," she started, but as she said it the image appeared to waver, fall down the side of the house and then disappeared completely. She stared a moment longer, scanning the other attic window as well as the two large bedroom windows below, but saw nothing else.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, looking at her with a puzzled expression.

Ginny shook her head; it must have been a trick of the sunlight reflecting off the windows. "I thought I saw something in one of the attic windows is all. It was just the sunlight."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, reaching for his wand, suddenly on full alert and scanning the area around them. "Maybe we should go back and check."

Ginny laughed at him. "We're out in the middle of nowhere, who could possibly be in the house except us? Put your wand away. It was just a trick of the light, I'm positive." Harry hesitantly replaced his wand back in its holster in his jacket sleeve and Ginny smiled up at him. "Always ready to protect me, Harry?"

"Always," he replied and caressed her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You look beautiful on the moor."

"Thank you," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and standing on her toes to kiss him. He gently dropped the basket behind them in order to pull her closer as he returned her kiss. Ginny didn't think they were going to make it to the walled garden after all, but what did it matter since there wasn't another living soul around for miles except the two of them? As Harry haphazardly tossed the blanket on the ground and pulled her down on it with him, she didn't think their lives could get much better than they were at this very moment.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Draco sat on his bed staring at the drain in his cell. Ever since the episode with the paper he had refused to accept any more newspapers or magazines, and he thought he might very well be going insane. Without the luxury of losing himself within an interesting article he had nothing else to do but stare at the four dark grey walls of his cell or talk to his guard, whose name he had finally learned was Malcolm Van Hyning. Draco thought that was rather an ostentatious name for the large burly man, who looked more like he should be Hagrid's half-brother.

Van Hyning had long, stringy brown hair, a scraggly brown beard, with a ruddy complexion, large, meaty hands, and clownish feet. Draco had never seen a normal person with feet as large as the guard's, and he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he really _was_ a quarter giant.

Thinking about Van Hyning's heritage was better than reflecting on the nightmares that continued to plague him. Most were variations on a theme revolving around his punishment for failing to kill Dumbledore, but lately those had been interspersed with the destruction Voldemort had rained down upon Malfoy Manor after they had allowed Potter to slip through their fingers a second time.

Even his Aunt Bellatrix hadn't escaped the monster's rage then. Draco had cowered with his mother and father in an upstairs bedroom, and still his aunt's screams had reached their ears. It had seemed to go on forever and he didn't know which was worse her screaming or when it had finally stopped, because when it stopped he knew the worst was yet to come. The three of them had sat there, waiting for what seemed like hours before Bellatrix appeared in the doorway, her eyes glassy and vacant in direct contrast to the strange leer on her lips.

"The Dark Lord wantsss to sssssee you now," she had slurred staring directly at Draco.

"No!" Narcissa had cried, pushing Draco behind her and imploring her sister. "Draco didn't have anything to do with it!"

Bellatrix had awkwardly danced on her toes towards them, making it obvious that her nerve endings weren't quite in sync with the signals her brain was sending them. "I told on you! I told on you!" She sang, twirling around before coming to a staggering stop to glare at him. "You knew it was Potty all along and you protected him!" she had screamed.

"I didn't!" he had protested. "I wasn't sure."

"Pay, pay, pay," Bellatrix had chanted. "Someone must pay. Draco's been a bad, bad boy and must be punished."

Lucius had pulled Draco from behind his protesting mother. "Go, before he comes looking for all of us."

"Lucius, no!" Narcissa had wailed, aghast, hanging onto Draco's arm, attempting to pull him away from his father. "Please! Let me go instead!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" his father had spat, shoving Narcissa roughly back against the wall and wrenching Draco's arm from her grasp. "That would only make it worse!" He had turned to Draco, his expression cold and disapproving as always. "You knew what was expected of you and you have failed again. Go before you bring his wrath down on us all. Do you want to see your mother tortured for you?"

His father had stepped away and restrained Narcissa who had lunged once again to move past him. Draco had been disgusted with himself that he had even entertained the thought to let his mother take his place if his father had allowed it. Bellatrix had curled her fingers around his upper arm, digging her long nails into his robes so hard he could feel them pinching his skin underneath.

"Let's go play, Draco," she had crooned in his ear making him want to retch all over her.

"Bellatrix," Narcissa had gasped in one final attempt. "He's your flesh and blood, Bellatrix!"

"Don't worry, Sissy," Bellatrix had called sweetly. "I'll take good care of him."

She had led him out of the room and he had stumbled after her in a haze of fear and loathing. The closer they had come to the dining room, the tighter his throat had become and his heart constricted in his chest until it ached and his breathing sounded harsh and loud in his ears. Draco wasn't ashamed to admit he had balked at the door, but his aunt had been surprisingly strong and had shoved him through the doors where he had fallen to his knees. She'd stepped around him and had gone to simper at Voldemort's side as if he hadn't just spent the past hour inflicting immense amounts of pain upon her.

"Draco, you have failed me yet again," Voldemort had said, his voice dripping with disappointment. "I expected so much more from Lucius' only son."

Draco had stared at the flickering flames in the large fireplace directly behind the evil wizard. _This is hell,_ Draco had thought at the time. _I am living in hell. _

"I am beginning to wonder whose side you are really on?" Voldemort had mused.

"Y-your side, my l-lord," Draco had managed to stutter out.

"I think you need to be reminded again what happens to those who disappoint me," Voldemort had stated, the immense anger he was feeling seeping into his words and Draco had wondered if he would even survive to bear the reminder.

His aunt's gleeful laughter of excitement echoed across the room before the onslaught came. It had been excruciating, worse than the first time and had seemed to last an eternity. When it was finally over, he hadn't been able to move and lay there in his own mess of vomit and urine. He had been vaguely aware of Voldemort stepping over him while his aunt trod upon him, her spiked heel digging into his ribs as they exited the room. Moments later his mother had rushed in sobbing heavily and pulled his head into her lap. He had blissfully passed out as she was rinsing cold water over his face and brushing his hair away from his forehead.

Draco stared out his cell door as the awful memory faded and wondered how his mother was faring alone without either him or his father to care for her. He doubted his mother had ever had to fend for herself in all her years and he imagined she lived in as much misery as he did now. He saw her once a week, but she did not speak much of her life; she only cried and lamented his fate.

Draco thought his fate could have been much worse after all he could be dead, like Voldemort. Of course, the dark lord had supposedly died once before, but somehow had been brought back to life. How had he managed that Draco didn't know, but if he had been able to do it before, why not again?

Draco looked back down at the drain in his cell. He thought back to the first time he had ever 'seen' Voldemort or the creature that he was at the time. That thing had slithered over the ground, a grotesque, ethereal cross between a baby and a snake and something Draco thought he'd only see in nightmares. He'd fled, leaving Potter behind to fend for himself.

The black sludge was completely different, nowhere close to being human. Perhaps Voldemort had returned the only way he could this time, as a ghost. If that were the case, how had he been able to return in human form before and why was it different now? Draco didn't know, but thought perhaps if he searched his memory further, maybe there was another piece of the puzzle to be found.

In the meantime, there were only two people left who might have more answers for him and only one of them would be willing to freely give them to him. The other would need a lot of coercing, and Draco could only come up with one idea to begin.

Rising from his bed, he walked over to the tiny desk in the corner of his cell and pulled out a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill. Hastily he wrote a quick note, folded it and wrote the receiver's name on it before rolling it up and tying it with a piece of twine. He had no idea how long it would take to be delivered, but at least he would be able to say he tried.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry and Ginny spent most of the day on Sunday packing up anything they wouldn't need for the week, with the hope that if they accomplished enough they would be able to move the following weekend. Now that they had an expansive house to call their own, the flat that they had thought was so cosy when they first began renting it suddenly felt extremely cramped and claustrophobic.

They had spent most of the morning packing up their spring and summer clothes, which Harry absolutely detested. Packing had always been a chore and something he had put off until the very last minute; however, Ginny had insisted they make an attempt and Harry knew better than to argue.

So it was that he was haphazardly tossing his clothes into his old school trunk until it was overflowing and he still had three drawers and half his wardrobe left. Ginny glanced over at his trunk and shook her head in dismay.

"All your clothes should fit in that trunk," she commented. "You have to fold and shrink them."

Harry waved his wand at a dress shirt lying on top of the pile and it attempted to fold itself only to land in a small ball back on top of the heap.

"That was a pitiful attempt," Ginny remarked. "All right, I'll finish up here if you pack up the sitting room."

Harry made a face. "That room is full of books and knick-knacks," he complained.

"Most of which are yours," Ginny reminded him. "If you want me to fold your clothes properly, it's the least you can do."

"I think I may be getting the raw end of the deal, but all right," Harry said, glad to not have to fold clothes, which he had never been good at with or without the aid of magic.

He left Ginny to it and headed down the hall to the sitting room in their flat that contained a sofa, coffee table and a walnut desk shoved in the corner that he used whenever he had to bring work home. Sitting down in the matching rolling desk chair he opened the top drawer to find it full of broken quills and empty ink bottles. He tossed all of those directly into the waste bin and quickly looked through the other drawers, most of which were filled with blank parchment and a few training manuals from his academy days. He set the manuals down and then wrapped the knick-knacks that cluttered some nearby shelves with some of the parchment he had found until he had a small pile of lumpy objects sitting in the middle of his desk. Glancing around the room, he waved his wand towards a pile of books stacked under the coffee table, and they flew over to the opened trunk he had placed earlier in the day by his desk and dropped somewhat neatly into the bottom. Looking inside the trunk, he made a face at the amount of room just the books were taking up and shrunk them down in order to fit everything else still sitting on his desk. Then he did the same with the assorted pictures they had on the mantle, wrapping those in the remaining parchment and placing them on top his desk as well.

Harry opened the desk drawers one more time to make sure he had not forgotten anything and spotted, shoved at the back of a bottom drawer, a battered wooden box, the sight of which caused his face to wrinkle up in disgust. Taking it out he set it on his knees and stared at it a moment before lifting the lid. Tossed in a jumble were several medals the Ministry had shoved upon him right after the final battle including an Order of Merlin First Class. Of all the awards, that was the one he despised the most. On several occasions, when he had been forced to attend Ministry functions, Kingsley had repeatedly asked him why he never wore his medal as all the other witches and wizards in attendance did. Harry had answered honestly that he felt like the medal had been awarded for all the wrong reasons. Why should he receive an Order of Merlin First Class just because he had been the one to face Voldemort at the very end? It wasn't like he was the only one who had fought him that day. In Harry's eyes, everyone who had been at the Final Battle deserved the same recognition the Ministry had been determined to thrust on him.

"You should display them, Harry," Ginny said softly from the doorway.

He shook his head. "I don't want to." He shut the lid on the box, shrunk it to the size of a thimble and set it in the bottom of the trunk next to the books he had already placed in there. He shrunk the remainder of his books left on the shelves along with the items that he had sat on the desk and piled them on top of the box, effectively burying it out of sight. "There's room on top if there is anything else you want to put in here."

Ginny nodded, but didn't move from her spot and continued to stare at him until he felt uncomfortable. "What?" he asked, glancing her way.

"I hate it when you get this way," she replied.

"I hate it when I get this way, too, and that's another reason it's best if those stay in that box," Harry stated. "Out of sight, out of mind."

Ginny smiled sadly and tread across the rug to where he stood. Gazing down at the items in the trunk briefly, she closed the lid and sat on it.

"Why do they bother you so much?" Ginny asked.

"You know why," Harry sighed, sitting back in the desk chair and facing her. "Medals can't bring back the dead."

"Those aren't about who died, Harry," Ginny responded. "They're about who you saved."

"I wasn't the only one there," Harry explained. "Besides, where's your medal, Ginny?"

"In my box of treasures on the shelf in the wardrobe," she replied with a smile. "Well, in the trunk with our spring and summer clothes now."

"So, we're even," Harry remarked, smiling crookedly which he knew would make her feel better and was rewarded when her eyes brightened. "Are we all packed now?"

Ginny looked at him in shock. "Not even close, Harry. Unfortunately, we've left the hardest room for last. The kitchen."

Harry shrugged. "How hard can it be?"

"You'll find out," she replied and standing up, took his hand and pulled him out of the chair, leading him into the kitchen. Three hours later Harry realized what she had been talking about, as they had barely scratched the surface with packing up all the dishes and pots, pans, and cauldrons.

"Just imagine what it would be like if we couldn't use magic," Ginny remarked, placing her hands against the small of her back and stretching. "I suppose we should call it a day, after all, we still need to leave a few dishes out to tide us over this week."

"A few?" Harry asked, looking in the open cupboards that contained several stacks still.

"I think we did great," Ginny said, glancing around. "Now you just need to convince Ron and Hermione of the benefits of helping us move."

"Why do I have to convince them?" Harry asked.

"Because they're _your _best friends," Ginny replied.

"Yeah, but they're _your _brother and sister-in-law," Harry reminded her. "I think that trumps being best friends."

"Then, all the more reason why the job falls on you, Harry," Ginny said sweetly. "Now they are your best friends _and_ brother and sister-in-law."

Harry stared at her, his jaw hanging as Ginny flashed him a mischievous smile revealing her small white teeth and sashayed out of the kitchen. Knowing he had been thoroughly out-smarted, Harry resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to think of a way to bribe Ron and Hermione into helping them and followed after his wife to concede his defeat.


	5. Ch 4 - A Waste of Resources

**Author's Note: **Thank you to Arnel and seekers_destiny for all their hard work on this story with grammar, canon, and plot. A special thanks to seekers_destiny for suggesting I add a short scene between Ron and Harry where Harry asks Ron to help with the move. I hope you all will enjoy, and as always, all comments are welcome and appreciated!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

After Head Auror Robards' usual Monday morning briefing, Harry found himself patrolling Knockturn Alley with Assistant Head Auror Geoffrey Williamson. Robards had been pairing the two of them together more often lately and Harry didn't have to guess why. Williamson was becoming tired of the draining work and he had two older children who had recently started families; Harry suspected his partner would like to spend more time with them. Harry also knew Robards liked him and thought he had 'potential' as the Head Auror had put it a time or two.

Harry had to laugh at that, especially since so many people just assumed he would be handed anything he wanted. That may have been true right after the Final Battle, but he was glad to say that window had passed and he had to work just like everyone else. He did have to admit that lurking in the dark recesses of Knockturn Alley was not at the top of his list of things he would rather be doing for his job, but somebody had to do it and he supposed his number had come up.

Williamson was equally annoyed with their current assignment, and Harry couldn't blame him. The denizens of the dark side of Diagon Alley hadn't changed much even though it had been several years since the end of the war, and already several ill-kept and dazed wizards and witches had stepped out of the shadows as they approached in the hopes of peddling their wares, dark art talismans and the like. Harry was somewhat surprised to see there was still a market for such items, but he supposed old habits die hard.

Of course, as soon as the street merchants took note of Harry's and Williamson's robes, they quickly stepped back from where they had come from, muttering apologies and assurances that their goods were on the up and up.

His current assignment was to be on the lookout for an illegal potions merchant who had been selling hallucinatory potions to desperate witches and wizards down on their luck and hoping for a cheap get-away. Harry was surprised that these poor souls didn't simply go to George's shop for one of his Patented Day-Dream Charms since they were guaranteed safe and had been approved by the Ministry. However, Harry assumed the type of witch or wizard purchasing the illegal potions needed something a bit stronger. The problem was that there had been several victims who had overdosed and been admitted to St. Mungo's with permanent hallucinatory damage, causing them to be a danger to themselves and others.

Robards was becoming desperate to find the main dealer and supplier and put an end to the production before more people were hurt. That was easier said than done and short of following every lead that they were given, looking for a potions dealer was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Harry seriously doubted the person even operated out of Knockturn Alley. He had his suspicions that they were outside the magical radar in the Muggle world, but London was a vast area to search and so far, Robards had been hesitant to call in the aide of the Muggle authorities. Harry thought this was a mistake and if something didn't break soon, he was considering doing it anyway.

"This is useless," Williamson muttered. "We are never going to find anything this way. It's a waste of resources."

"I'd rather think of myself as a bit more than simply a resource," Harry commented as he peered through the dingy windows of Borgin and Burke's.

"Don't be cheeky, Potter," Williamson barked. "You know what I mean."

Harry nodded mutely and was about to turn away from the window and suggest they move on when he saw Narcissa Malfoy step out of the back room of Borgin's and attend to an aged witch who was looking at a disgustingly hairy foot. He'd heard that she had moved into a flat somewhere nearby after the Ministry liquidated all the Malfoy's assets and sold Malfoy Manor in order to pay all the legal fees as well as the personal injury claims.

Narcissa looked up from the register and caught him staring at her and her cheeks coloured in humiliation as she cast her eyes back down in resignation. Harry was surprised at the pang of pity he felt in his chest since Narcissa had taken her chances when she cast her lot with Voldemort. However, she had protected him when he had faced Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the forest, so Harry supposed that was where his feelings stemmed. He turned away from the window and followed Williamson who was heading towards the lane that would lead them back to Diagon Alley.

"Maybe we should stop in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to see if George has happened to overhear anything from one of his customers lately," Harry suggested as they stepped out of the cramped dark alley and into the broader lane of Diagon Alley.

"Doesn't Weasley already have that assignment?" Williamson asked in the slightly reprimanding manner he used when he thought Harry was being obtuse and which Harry detested.

"Yes, but I have a feeling George will be far more accommodating towards us than his own brother," Harry answered more tersely than he intended.

"That shop is always full of tittering adolescent girls," Williamson griped.

"The fall term has already started, most of the 'tittering' adolescent girls will be away at Hogwarts," Harry reminded his partner.

"I'll bet you lunch that there are at least five little girls squealing over those inane daydream charms," Williamson responded.

"I'll take that bet," Harry replied. "But I say there will only be three, so three and under I win, five and over you win, and four we call it even."

"Fine," Williamson agreed. "Be prepared to buy my lunch, Potter."

Walking through the door to George's shop Harry stepped from an overcast fall day into an intensely bright and colourful world that always reminded him of the circus. As always the bubblegum pink love potion and daydream display was one of the first things you saw when you entered the shop, as the wide range of products geared towards young girls were some of George's most popular items. Standing around the circular display were three nine-year-old girls, giggling like mad over a box one of them was holding that showed a wizard riding a white horse rescuing a princess dressed in pink from the clutches of a green dragon.

"Bugger," Williamson grumbled. "I should have known better than to make a bet with you regarding your own brother-in-law's shop."

"Shepard's pie and butterbeer sound good to me for lunch," Harry said with a smile. "And apple crumble for afters, Williamson."

George appeared from behind the curtained doorway that led to the storeroom and smiled broadly when he saw Harry. "Harry, Geoffrey! What an unexpected surprise. I was just showing my dear brother Ronald the latest product I'm hoping to have ready in time for the holiday rush, _The Jolly Elf_ glamour kit," George said mischievously and Harry was afraid to ask what that meant. He didn't have to since the curtain was thrown aside and a furious Ron came charging out sporting red-and-green-striped hair.

"George!" Ron shouted. "I've tried the de-glamour charm in the kit three times with no success!" He stopped short when he saw Harry and Auror Williamson staring over at him and immediately turned bright red. It was then that Harry noticed that the tip of Ron's nose as well as the apples of his cheeks were already a rosy red and only became redder as the flush rose over his face.

"That's not true," George remarked. "Your pointy ears have disappeared. So, success!"

"I can't go back to the office looking like this!" Ron complained.

"Don't worry Weasley," Williamson said, smiling for the first time that day, Harry noted. "You're still within the dress code."

"See? Supervisor approval," George beamed happily. "It should wear off in a day or so, Ron. The longest the charms lasted with some of my earlier test subjects was two weeks at the most." He turned to Harry and Williamson, leaving Ron to gape at him. "So, what can I do for you two today?"

Harry made an effort not to laugh at Ron's expense since he still needed to ask him to help with the move, but the sight of his best mate looking very much like one of Father Christmas's helpers was too comical and a snort of laughter escaped despite his best efforts. Ron shot him and George a glare before stomping back through the curtain.

"We stopped in to see if you had noticed anything unusual amongst your customers," Harry said. "But from the looks of things, it's been business as usual around here."

George nodded. "Ron's been the most out of the ordinary thing I've seen around here lately, sorry. My clientele aren't the type to lurk in back alleys, Harry."

"I know," Harry remarked. "We're just coming up empty."

"I understand," George said sincerely. "I wish I could be of more help, but I'll keep my eyes and ear open."

Harry smiled at his brother-in-law's poor joke. "We'd appreciate that."

"So, Harry," George said. "On a much lighter note, Magpies versus Harpies this weekend, my girlfriend, your wife. Care to make a prediction over who is going to win?"

"Sorry, George," Harry replied. "Angelina is a fantastic Chaser, but Ginny's better. We both know the Harpies are going to sweep."

George pulled a face. "I know, but don't tell Angelina I said that. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't support her one hundred percent?"

"A lousy one," Harry said. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks, mate," George said. "See you Sunday at the match then. Auror Williamson, please stop by again soon!" George waved them off as the three snickering girls approached the counter, clutching their day-dream boxes and George beamed widely. "Ladies, I see you have made some excellent selections! White knights, dragons, princesses, and evil wizards. You're guaranteed the romantic rescue of a lifetime or your money back."

Harry caught Williamson rolling his eyes as they headed out the door and had to laugh. Harry knew what his partner was thinking, rescues in real life were never as neat and easy as they were in the patented day dream packages. Usually they were dirty and messy and you were lucky to come out in one piece, and most definitely not romantic in the slightest, but no one wanted to have their dreams reflect reality. Harry hoped that the three girls never had to know what it was really like to be in danger and in need of rescuing.

Williamson grudgingly treated him to lunch at the Cauldron, which Harry enjoyed immensely. When they headed back to the office, Harry thought perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to stop by to see how Ron was fairing, not to mention, he still needed to ask Ron to help with the move, and headed towards his friend's office. He found Ron sitting at his desk writing up his report for the day and grumbling under his breath, a scowl on his face and his hair still bright red and green.

"Hey, mate," Harry said, fighting the grin tugging on his lips.

"If you stopped by for another laugh, you can leave," Ron growled, glaring up at him, the red on his nose and cheeks having faded to a pale pink.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized. "It seems to be fading." He offered in the hopes of appeasing his friend.

"If it wasn't abusing my power, I'd arrest him for obstruction of justice!" Ron declared, grounding his teeth. "I have to walk around like this all day, Harry!" He waved his hands at his hair.

"Wear a hat until it wears off," Harry offered, but received another piercing glare from his friend.

"It's always me," Ron complained. "George always picks on me."

"That's not true," Harry countered, shaking his head. "Remember that time he managed to slip both Ginny and me Exploding Éclairs when he first introduced those," Harry reminded his friend. "Granted, it was only cream, with no lasting effects, but all the same. Or, how about when he gave Percy the Quick-Quotes Quill for his birthday?"

"The one that wrote 'I'm a conceited arse' on the report he turned into Kingsley?" Ron choked, laughing at his other brother's misery. "Oh, he was livid. Even more so when he found out Kingsley was in on it."

"So, see, you aren't the only one," Harry supplied.

"Point taken," Ron acquiesced, pulling his two-way mirror out of his pocket to see if Harry's initial remark of the effects fading were true. He ran his fingers through his striped hair and grimaced. "Who would want to look like this in the first place?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Harry commiserated. "So, are we good?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, shoving his mirror back in his pocket.

"Good, because I have a favour to ask of you," Harry said. "Ginny was wondering if you and Hermione would be available to help with the move this weekend."

"Only Ginny was wondering?" Ron queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yeah," Harry said. "She's making me ask you."

"So, she twisted your arm, then?" Ron asked.

"No, but you should know that it's in my best interest to do what she asks," Harry answered.

Ron chortled at this. "Yeah, all right, Hermione and I can, but what's in it for me?"

"Dinner," Harry said, thinking it would be easy enough to supply, and food always seemed to appease Ron.

"Chinese," Ron firmly stated.

Horror struck Harry when his friend said this and he knew he was going to be in trouble when he went home and told Ginny. "Are you sure?" Visions of Ron attempting to slurp up Chicken Lo Mein with two sets of chopsticks swam through his mind, and he blanched.

"Yeah," Ron gloated, grinning at Harry's obvious dismay. "I can't wait until Saturday! Thanks, mate!"

"Right," Harry uttered. "Anytime." Hopefully, Ginny would be so pleased that he had managed to ask Ron, she'd overlook the Chinese dinner debacle he had just gotten them into.

**hghghgh ghghghgh**

Ginny sat in the first row of the Harpies stadium with her fellow Chasers Rachel Taylor and Anaïs Chrestopoulos observing as their reserves practiced with the team. Ginny was glad for the break as Gwenog was driving the team hard in preparation for the upcoming match against the Montrose Magpies. She watched as one of the Beaters, Jocelyn Barker effectively aimed a Bludger at one of the reserves and sent the Quaffle careening away from the goal posts. Gwenog's angry voice rang out over the stadium berating the Chaser and Ginny cringed in sympathy.

"This is too painful to watch," Ginny remarked, turning away to look over at her two friends. "I have news for you two anyway."

Rachel squealed in delight. "You bought the house!"

Ginny grinned. "Harry and I walked through it again Saturday and hopefully will move this Saturday."

Anaïs frowned. "Right before our match on Sunday? You must be crazy."

"We're anxious to be out of our tiny flat," Ginny explained. "Besides, I'm not worried about the Magpies. I played with one of their Chasers, Angelina when we attended Hogwarts together. I'm well versed in all her manoeuvres."

"She can say the same about you then, Ginny," Anaïs reminded her.

Ginny shook her head. "Not really. I played Seeker during the time Angelina was on the team and wasn't a Chaser until after she left."

"Who cares about the Magpies anyway," Rachel said. "I want you to move in as soon as possible so you can have a house-warming party! We haven't seen you and Harry in ages."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "After the last article the_ Daily Prophet_ printed about us, I don't think Harry and I will be going to any post game parties ever again."

Rachel grimaced. "I'm sorry. That's entirely my fault, isn't it?"

"Yes," Anaïs answered before Ginny could, causing Rachel's brow to crease with worry.

"Oh don't worry, Rachel," Ginny said, grinning. "Harry thought it was a lark and actually wanted to thank you afterwards."

"Really?" Rachel asked, her eyes widening. "Why's that?"

"Use your imagination," Ginny coyly said, casting her eyes back towards the pitch just in time to see the Keeper, Claress Fabrunda effectively block one of the reserves throws.

Rachel's cheeks reddened and she brushed her dark brown curly locks away from her face. "Well, I suppose every cloud has a silver lining," she said with a giggle.

"Let us settle in and then we'll see about having a small get-together," Ginny suggested, causing her friend to clap her hands and Anaïs to smile over at Ginny. "You've made our resident party girl extremely happy."

Ginny grinned and was about to comment when Gwenog appeared floating on her broom in front of them. "Weasley, if you are finished gossiping about your and Potter's new love nest, I need you three back in the air! Save the chit-chat for after hours, unless it's regarding Quidditch and how you plan on ensuring our victory against the Magpies this weekend!"

"You'll be invited to the party, too, Gwenog," Ginny brightly said as she grabbed her broom and jumped on it.

"Just see that we win the match this weekend," Gwenog replied and shot back to the observation box.

As Ginny soared into the air, she caught the Quaffle Lucy, one of the defeated-looking reserves tossed towards her and she sent a sympathetic smile her way. She spent the remainder of the day flying up and down the pitch chasing after the Quaffle and cursing Gwenog for being such a taskmaster, especially since Ginny managed to slip the Quaffle past Claress practically every time she was up to score.

By the end of the day she was completely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and crash. She showered and changed quickly, bidding her teammates 'good-night' and headed straight to the fireplace in the front reception area that was linked to the Floo Network.

Stepping out of the grate at the flat and nimbly avoiding the coffee table that perhaps sat a bit too close to the grate, Ginny threw herself across the sofa, too tired to walk down the hall to their room. She lay on her side and sleepily looked around the room, which looked distinctly bigger with nearly everything packed away in the trunk that sat next to Harry's desk. A pang of melancholy squeezed her heart at the thought of leaving the place she and Harry had called home since they had been married. She knew that was completely ridiculous, as they certainly couldn't stay here forever, but they had been very happy the three years they had lived here.

Ginny threw her arm over her eyes, thinking of how beautiful Wildebrook was and how happy they would be there to offset the sadness that had washed over her. She felt better immediately, and envisioned where they could put the furniture in this room and what kind of new furniture might look nice in the front sitting room. Her thoughts wandered to the kitchen at Wildebrook and she sighed thinking that she'd have to get up soon and actually go rummage in the kitchen of the flat to see what they could have for dinner. That thought was daunting and it was times like these when she was utterly exhausted that she missed the days of simply arriving in the Great Hall at Hogwarts at the end of the day and helping herself to whatever was on the menu.

_The sound of noisy students eating, talking, and laughing spilled out the doors of the Great Hall as she walked by them. The smells accosted her and her stomach rumbled hungrily, but she continued on her way, unable to change the direction her feet were taking her. Stumbling down the steps of the Entrance Hall, she walked down the path that would guide her towards the groundskeeper's hut. A light burned in one of the small windows, but she knew he would be feasting with everyone else and there was no need to worry about him seeing her._

_Approaching the structure, she skirted around it until she came upon the chicken coop. The chickens clucked frantically around the pen, jumping on top of one another in a futile attempt to move as far away from her as they possibly could. She opened the gate and stepped inside, oblivious to the ruckus. _

_A rooster, in a show of false bravado charged towards her, pecking furiously, but she deftly avoided his beak and swiftly grabbed him around the neck, breaking it with a quick twist of her hands before the bird even knew what was happening. Its body continued to jerk against her, but she ignored it as she held the dead rooster by its now limp neck and headed back towards the castle._

_The cacophony of noise was just as great when she re-entered the building, but again she ignored it and made her way up the stairs to the first floor hallway. She was anxious to see her pet, and knew he would be hungry. Before entering her final destination, she twisted the head off the rooster and quickly wrote her message to the school, using the rooster's neck as if it were a quill before all the blood drained from its body. _

_Satisfied she entered the girls' bathroom and found the sink with the snake scratched on its faucet and commanded it to 'open.' The sink slid back to reveal a large pipe, and stepping back, she waited for the creature, hearing the faint sounds of it slithering through the pipes, as it called to her. Water preceded the creature, bursting up out of the pipe and cascaded across the bathroom floor towards the door. The head of a huge snake appeared soon after and she tossed the rooster's head and body into its gaping maw. It swallowed it quickly and swung its head around the bathroom looking for more._

_The hiss of a feline sounded behind her and turning she spied the oddly tufted cat belonging to the caretaker, Argus Filch. It arched its back, emitting a growl from deep in its throat as it prepared to pounce on the offending monster. The snake flicked its tongue out towards it and its yellow eyes reflected in the water on the floor just as the cat bent its head and the animal froze where it stood._

_She flicked her wand at the cat sending it soaring out of the room and draping over a nearby torch, annoyed that she had been interrupted. The snake awaited further instructions._

_"Soon," she hissed, realizing her time was growing short. "Go."_

_The creature slid back from whence it had come hissing its disappointment and the sink moved back in place leaving no trace that the creature had ever been there except the water on the floor and the Petrified cat._

_She hastily left the bathroom, headed down the corridor and up a staircase that would lead her back to her dormitory. As she ascended the stairs, the railings closed in on her and the stone steps turned to wood covered in a worn rug. The lighting dimmed until it was nearly pitch black and she stepped out onto a small landing and gazed down a narrow hallway with several closed doors. The faint strains of a magical child's lullaby reached her ears and silently, she crept down the passage towards the sound._

_She stopped by a door at the end through which she could hear the music more clearly and gently she eased the door open. Stars, moons, and suns circled slowly over the ceiling and walls and she could just make out the shape of someone sleeping in a bed next to the bedside table that contained the music box._

_Treading lightly across the floor, she approached the side of the bed and gazed down at a fifteen-year-old Harry, asleep in his bed at Grimmauld Place. Tentatively she reached down and brushed his tousled black fringe away from his forehead. _

_Licking her lips nervously, she leaned over hoping she could steal a kiss while he slept. She was inches away when his eyes snapped open, startling her. However, instead of looking into emerald green eyes, the eyes staring at her were red with evil black slits._

_"He's mine!" a voice that was not Harry's hissed at her and she jumped back in alarm, a scream of terror lodging in her throat. Only, the floor behind her had disappeared and she was falling down the long, slimy pipe in the floor of the first floor girls' bathroom at Hogwarts. This time she did scream and flailed her arms wildly trying to find purchase along the walls._

Ginny awoke with a start when she landed on the floor by the sofa, drenched in a cold sweat. Shuddering, she reached up and pulled the red and gold afghan her mother had knitted as a wedding present, and wrapped it around her shoulders. The sun had sunk much lower and the chilly room was cast in a grey gloom that made the hairs on her arms raise with gooseflesh. She couldn't remember the last time she had dreamed of the Chamber and had thought those days were behind her. It was disquieting to realize that was not the case, and this dream in particular had been upsetting because it had felt as if she were reliving it all over again.

Ginny started to stand when the faint strains of the lullaby she had heard in her dream reached her ears once more. She paused, still sitting on the floor and tried to figure out where the music could be coming from. Cocking her head to the side, she pulled the afghan tighter around herself as she slowly rose to her feet.

The music seemed to be coming from somewhere down the hallway where the bedroom was located and with some trepidation Ginny moved down it slowly. Faint light moved across the floor underneath the bedroom door, and pushing it open she could see the sun, moon, and stars swirling over the blue duvet on the bed as well as the wall above. Stepping fully into the room, she glanced around warily and saw that the music and lights were coming from a small silver box that was sitting on top of Harry's school trunk they had packed yesterday. It was called a Sleep-Tight Box and had been hers when she was a little girl. However, she had given it to Harry before his fifth year when he was being plagued by horrible nightmares of Cedric's death.

Ginny walked over to the trunk and gently pressed the button on the side, turning the box off. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, examining it, but knowing it would tell her nothing. She supposed Harry must have set it there that morning, having found it somewhere and wanting to ensure it was packed. Perhaps he had knocked the button on accident and hadn't realized it.

She would have been thankful since the lullaby had taken her out of the Chamber nightmare, if the Grimmauld Place portion of her dream hadn't turned nightmarish as well. Try as she might she couldn't shake the vision of Harry with horrible eyes and she wished he were home already, so he could comfort her and tell her everything was going to be all right.

As if on cue, the whoosh of the Floo reached her ears and Ginny ran out of the room and down the hall straight into Harry's arms. She pressed her face into his robes, breathing in the scent of him and he dropped his satchel to envelop her in his arms.

"Everything all right?" he asked and Ginny felt her heart flip at the sound of his voice and the world around her suddenly righted itself.

"I'm glad you're home," she said, pulling away to look up into his blessedly green eyes.

"Me, too," Harry said, studying her intently. "Is there something going on?"

Ginny screwed her face up. "I had a nightmare about one of the first times Tom fully possessed me. That hasn't happened in a long time. And then I dreamed that you had been possessed. It – unsettled me."

"Oh, Gin," Harry breathed, pulling her to him once again and she gladly leaned against him. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, but it was just a dream."

Ginny nodded against him, feeling his warmth seep into her, chasing the remaining fear away. "I suppose I'm just more anxious about everything than I thought. Moving Saturday, the match against the Magpies on Sunday."

"We can move next weekend, love," Harry suggested. "We don't have to do it all in one weekend, you know."

"I know," Ginny said. "But I really want to. Besides, you enlisted Ron and Hermione's help, right?" She looked up at him, and he grimaced.

"I had to promise him Chinese carry-out," Harry hesitantly said before plowing on. "George played a prank on him today and he was cheesed off over it and the fact that both Williamson and I saw him looking like an elf and laughed at him."

"Ouch," Ginny said laughing at the thought of her brother resembling an elf and glad for the change of subject. "I would have liked to have seen that for myself. You'd think after all these years Ron would learn never to trust anything George gives him."

Harry nodded, chuckling. "Oh, Gin, you should have seen him. All he needed was the pointy green hat, tunic, leggings, and shoes and he could be sending kids up to sit on Father Christmas's lap at Harrods."

"I can imagine," Ginny said and then sobered. "But Chinese, Harry?" Ever since Hermione had introduced Ron to Chinese carry-out he had become obsessed. The only trouble was he insisted on attempting to eat it with chopsticks. It was not a pleasant sight and the last time they had eaten with them, Ginny had lost her appetite.

"I know, but I was desperate," Harry said apologetically.

Ginny shook her head. "You must have been." She smiled up at him. "I feel better though. Thank you."

"I didn't do anything," Harry said, gently rubbing her back.

"Being with you, talking about normal stuff always makes me feel better," Ginny replied. "And the events in my dream were a lifetime ago. I just wish I didn't have nightmares to remind me."

"I know," Harry softly said. "I wish you could forget about it all."

"Waking up and seeing you in the Chamber is the best memory of my first year at Hogwarts," Ginny admitted. "That's the one thing I would never want to forget."

"If I were you, I'd want to forget that, too," Harry commented. Ginny shook her head knowing he was thinking of his wretched appearance after the events in the Chamber, but that's not what she remembered. What she remembered was the look in his eyes, a mixture of worry, fear, and concern for her; the stupid girl who had wreaked havoc on the school, Petrified his best friend, and nearly had him killed.

Looking up at him she saw nearly the same look reflected in his eyes now, with the fear exchanged for love and any further vestiges of fright from her dream that still remained melted.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again.

She nodded. "Just hold me a bit longer?"

Without a word, he pulled her closer and Ginny tucked her head under his chin and closed her eyes, feeling protected and safe in his loving embrace.


	6. Ch 5 - Reality is Better Than Fantasy

**Author's Notes: **This is a transitional chapter, but very important. All my thanks to my betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny; their help and suggestions are invaluable. I hope you will enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

The following morning Harry headed into his office, relieved to see that for once his in box was relatively clear. Yesterday, immediately after lunch Williamson had saddled him with a stack of reports he wanted completed by five today. Harry knew Williamson had only given him all the work because he was still upset over losing the bet. Harry made a mental note never to bet with Williamson over anything in the future after he had completed the fifth report regarding an outbreak of excessive flatulence in Brighton. He had no intention of personally following up that case and decided to pass those reports and the three others he had come across in the stack to a very green Junior Auror named Clyde Matteson. It seemed like his cup of tea and Harry had already spent three years doing that sort of grunt work and it was time to pass the torch.

Besides, what he really wanted to focus his attention on was solving the current illegal potions case before many more wizards or witches succumbed to the debilitating side effects. Harry had gone so far as questioning Mundungus, who had been unhelpful as always. Harry longed to be able to charge the wretch with something simply to see him behind bars, if only for a week, but since the war Mundungus had kept a relatively low and clean profile. Harry had no doubt he was still conning unsuspecting wizards and witches, but so far there hadn't been any complaints about the man that warranted anything more than verbal warnings.

He was the least of Harry's worries at any rate and had been useless with any helpful information. Robards had actually given Harry permission to contact the local Muggle authorities, and now Harry only had to figure out how best to go about it. It would have been useful if he already knew someone, but at the moment he did not. Harry supposed the best place to start would be to contact the head of Scotland Yard, Commissioner Anders, since as far as Harry knew he was the only Muggle police officer who knew about the magical world.

He was flipping through his file of contacts when Monat, the young witch who worked as a secretary for his team entered his office with the morning mail and his usual cup of tea she'd taken it upon herself to bring him. He had asked her on numerous occasions that it wasn't necessary, but she insisted and finally he had decided it was better to simply accept her generosity.

"Good morning, Harry," Monat said in her soft voice. She barely ever spoke above a whisper and ducked her head to the side in an attempt to hide the scars along the right side of her face she had sustained during the war. Harry thought she was very pretty with her caramel skin and chin length, curly black hair despite the disfigurement, and also knew that several of his fellow Aurors, including poor, gawky Clyde fancied her. Hopefully, one of these days one of them would work up the courage to ask her out and give her the confidence boost she needed.

"Good morning, Monat," Harry replied, smiling as he took the tea and mail from her. "Anything interesting this morning?"

"Only the usual," Monat answered. "There was one letter that was held up in screening. It was sent several days ago, Harry. I hope it wasn't important."

Harry nodded. "I'm sure it's not. Thanks, Monat," he said, placing the pile of mail on his desk.

"Is there anything else you need, Harry?" Monat asked.

"No," he started, pausing as a sudden inspiration struck him, "Actually, I just gave Clyde some reports he might need some assistance with. Would you mind stopping by his cubicle and helping him out, if needed?"

"Sure thing, Harry," she said, smiling slightly. "Have a good day."

"You, too," Harry stated, hoping Clyde would take her offer for aide and perhaps the two of them could strike up a conversation or have lunch. Looking back down at the small pile of mail she had given him, Harry picked the rolled up letter off the top before setting the rest on his desk. The scrawled handwriting on the outside with his name and address looked familiar, but Harry couldn't place it at the moment. Removing the twine, he unrolled what turned out to be a scrap of parchment with only a single line written on it:

**What do you really know about ghosts, Potter? DM**

Harry sighed in exasperation and crumpled up the note to toss in the rubbish bin. It was no wonder the letter had been held up in screening. Even though it had been sent by a prisoner from Azkaban who shouldn't have access to anything life threatening he could include in a letter, the screeners never let anything through until they were absolutely certain there wasn't any danger to the recipient. Many times Harry's mail was held up in this way, which sometimes proved annoying.

However, he didn't mind that the screeners had held Draco's missive up, as all it did was annoy Harry that the git was still trying to ruffle his feathers. Harry more than likely knew more about ghosts than Draco ever would. After all, Harry had been invited to a Death Day party by Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington and had spent the considerable part of an evening listening to dreadful sawing music and smelling rotten fish and mouldy cheeses. The worst a ghost could do was to pass through you, sending a chill down your spine. At least, that is what Harry had always thought, and had never heard otherwise.

He raised his hand to throw the balled up parchment in the bin, but hesitated. Why would Draco be bothering him now? Unless Draco came right out and said Voldemort was visiting him in his cell, and had some sort of proof, Harry had no cause to believe him. Even then he doubted he would take anything Draco had to say as truth.

Ghosts floated through walls and lamented what could have been in their past lives. Look at Moaning Myrtle. She was a prime example of why it was better to pass on to the next world and not leave an imprint of oneself on this one. What good did it do to bemoan your fate for eternity? Why would anyone want to do that? Even Sir Nicholas never truly seemed happy. Of course, maybe that would be the best punishment for Voldemort; to spend all of eternity watching other witches and wizards, most especially Muggle-borns living the life he had thrown away because of his greed. Actually, come to think of it, Harry would love to come across Voldemort as a ghost because then he could tell him he had told him so.

Opening the top drawer of his desk, Harry tossed Draco's note inside and shoved the drawer closed. Draco was another one who could sit and think about all the mistakes he had made and Harry was satisfied that he had already told his old foe that very thing. He certainly wasn't going to waste any more time that morning thinking about Draco and his paranoia. Harry had much more important matters to attend to, and resumed the task of contacting Scotland Yard.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny wasn't scheduled for practice until later in the afternoon and had decided to spend the morning lounging on the couch listening to the wireless. She felt slightly guilty, since she was sure there were more things she could pack up, most especially in the kitchen, but even though she had slept well she was still somewhat shaken from her nightmare yesterday and didn't have the energy. She was toying with the idea of stopping by the Ministry before work and surprising Harry for lunch, and was about to rise to get dressed when green flames flared up in the grate and her mother's head appeared.

"Ginny," her mother said. "I wasn't sure if either you or Harry would be home this late in the morning."

Hiding her grimace, Ginny slipped off the couch and knelt on the hearth rug in order to see her mother better. "Good morning, Mum," she said cheerfully. "I have the morning off."

Her mother peered at her through the flames. "Are you all right? You are looking a bit peaky."

Ginny sighed. "I'm fine, Mum."

"You are trying to do too much, between work and moving," her mother admonished.

"I think I can handle it, Mum," Ginny said. "It's not like I am doing it alone. Harry's helping a bit." She smirked at her joke, but it seemed to go over her mother's head.

"I'm sure he is, dear," her mother sincerely replied. "I spoke with Hermione last evening and she mentioned that she and Ron are helping you two this weekend. Why didn't you ask your father and me, as well?"

Ginny bent her head to hide her annoyance and made a mental note to express her displeasure to her sister-in-law the next time she saw her. Raising her head back up, Ginny brushed her hair away from her face and looked at her mother earnestly. "Oh, Mum, Harry and I don't have that much stuff to move. It should only take a couple of hours at the most, and we didn't want to bother you and Dad."

"This is because of our little disagreement last week, isn't it?" her mother asked. "You and Harry hardly said anything to your father and me when you came to pick up the car this past weekend."

"Mum, we didn't have a lot of time," Ginny explained, really not feeling like rehashing the argument she had had with her mother over the article. "It's a long drive from Devon to Yorkshire. I'm sorry if you are feeling slighted. Harry and I certainly did not mean to hurt your feelings."

Her mother looked at her sternly from the flames. "Don't think I don't know about the modifications your father made to that car, Ginny. I was not born yesterday and your father may have thought he was being clever, but I am well aware of the invisibility booster and flying enchantments he added while the car was left in his care."

"Mum," Ginny groaned, deciding it would pointless to inform her mother that even she hadn't known about the adjustments to the car until a week ago. "It was still a long drive. I was hoping to invite you and Dad over after Harry and I had settled in."

"Oh, well if you are certain," her mother said, deflating.

"I am, but we really appreciate your offer, Mum," Ginny answered. "We only want you and Dad to enjoy yourselves, and like I said, Harry and I only have three rooms to pack up and move." Her mother's face fell further and despite their recent differences of opinion, Ginny's heart broke a little at the thought that she may have inadvertently hurt her mother's feelings. "We'll need to go shopping to purchase some new furniture for the front sitting room and the spare bedrooms, Mum. Would you like to help with that?"

A broad smile graced her mother's lips and Ginny was glad she had thought to make the suggestion. "Listen, Mum. I really need to get ready for work, but we'll make plans for next week, all right?"

"All right, dear," her mother replied. "And Ginny, be sure that you are eating properly. You do look pale."

Ginny scowled as her mother's head disappeared from the flames. Glancing at the clock, she realized she was running short on time if she still intended to surprise Harry. Standing, she headed down the hallway to the bathroom and peered at herself in the mirror. She supposed she did look a bit pale and there were faint smudges under her eyes.

Sighing, she pulled out her wand and cast a few simple glamour charms to cover the dark circles and add some colour to her face. Fortunately, she had still been asleep when Harry left for work; otherwise, he probably would have insisted they postpone the move if he had seen the way she looked. It irked her somewhat that she was still plagued occasionally by nightmares of the Chamber. It had nearly been ten years ago and honestly she hadn't suffered a nightmare like the one from yesterday in years, not since she had married Harry and they shared a bed. She thought that was a good thing since Harry had still suffered from the occasional nightmare even after they were married. However, they had subsided greatly, and it had been months since his last episode until two weeks ago when Draco had awakened the old ghosts.

She supposed it all boiled down, for both of them, to the stress of their professions, adding the move on top of them, and then the stupid wanker rotting in Azkaban trying to goad Harry. Scowling at her reflection over the thought of Malfoy, but satisfied that she looked much better, Ginny headed into the bedroom and threw on a pair of jeans and a pale blue button down blouse before grabbing her Harpies cloak and heading for the sitting room fireplace.

A lunch with Harry was definitely in order; she knew she would feel better and he always liked it when she surprised him. Throwing a pinch of powder into the grate, Ginny stepped into the green flames and called out 'The Ministry'.

When she arrived in the Atrium, Ginny paused at the fountain that stood in the centre. It had been erected just a few months ago and was a apt representation of the magical world today. It was golden, just as the pre-war fountain had been, but showed a goblin, house elf, centaur, witch, and wizard facing one another as equals. The jets of water shooting from the wands of the witch and wizard, the arrow of the centaur, the goblin's sword, and the house elf's hat all met in the middle of the pool. Engraved around the base of the fountain were all the names of the magical beings that had fought for the light side in the Battle of Hogwarts.

Leaving the fountain she headed towards security and handed her wand to the skinny security guard standing at the entrance.

"Good morning, Ginny!" he enthusiastically said as he scanned her wand.

"Good morning, Stan," Ginny said with a smile. "How are you today?"

"I'm well, thank you for asking," he answered, handing her wand back. "Are you here to see Harry?"

"I am," Ginny replied, watching as Stan Shunpike made note of her answer on a piece of parchment sitting on his desk. Not long after becoming a Senior Auror, Harry had recommended Stan for the post and so far, the former Knight Bus conductor had been doing an excellent job.

"Have a nice day, Ginny." Stan opened the gate for her and she passed through. "You too, Stan," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the lifts.

She entered the lift along with a squat older witch with tangled greying hair that stuck out from beneath her abnormally tall patch worked witch's hat. Her robes also looked to have been made from a quilt and Ginny tried her best not stare. She needn't have bothered as the aged witch was openly assessing Ginny's appearance, causing Ginny to self-consciously pull her cloak tighter about her as she pressed the button for level two.

"Would you press four for me, dear? I'm headed to the Department of Magical Creatures," the aged witch croaked, staring up at Ginny as she complied with the hag's request. "They sent me a summons because I failed to register my Brownie. They're threatening to remove him from my care!"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ginny replied. "Hopefully, you can sort it all out."

"He's very sweet; a faithful companion. I don't know what I would do without him," the hag continued. "Do you have any pets?"

Ginny smiled. "My husband and I have an owl, but I wouldn't call her a pet. I think she would be offended by the term."

"Well, make sure she is registered properly," the hag warned, and Ginny didn't bother to correct the woman that owls were not in the same category as Brownies. Brownies were very similar to house elves, the only difference being they were usually bound to a house, not a witch or wizard. Ginny did not know the circumstances, but it would appear that this hag's Brownie had decided she was worthy of its constant companionship, which was a rare thing indeed.

"You're lucky to have found such a faithful Brownie," Ginny commented as the lift slowed to level four. "I'm sure once you straighten everything out you'll be fine."

"Thank you, dearie," the hag replied as the lift doors opened and she stepped out. "You seem to be a very sweet girl."

Ginny smiled back at her as the doors closed. She rode the last two levels down and when the doors opened again quickly stepped out into the reception area of the Aurors Department. Monat, and several other witches and wizards were sitting behind the counter, quills scratching in the unusually quiet office. Glancing down at her wristwatch, Ginny saw that it was nearing noon and she quickly stepped over to stand in front of Monet.

"Good afternoon, Monat," she said cheerfully as the pretty girl looked up from her parchment.

"Oh, good afternoon, Ginny!" Monat replied politely and then looked worried. "Were you hoping to catch Harry?"

Ginny nodded, realizing her plans were about to be dashed before Monat even spoke again. "I'm so sorry, Ginny. He had an unexpected meeting crop up suddenly. I'm not sure if I'm at liberty to tell you, but it's regarding his current case."

Ginny shook her head reassuringly. "That's all right, Monat. Do you think I could leave him a message?"

"Of course," Monat answered brightly. "I can escort you back to his office, if you would rather it be private."

"It's nothing that I mind you seeing, Monat," Ginny laughed. "But, that's fine. Is my brother in, by chance? I could always say hello to him, too, while I am here."

"I think he may be," Monat remarked as she led Ginny back through the maze of corridors, past the empty and cold interrogation rooms towards the cubicles and offices of the Aurors. They stopped by a closed door that contained a golden nameplate upon it that read _Auror H. Potter_ and Monat knocked, just to be sure, before nudging the door open. Ginny observed as the younger witch surreptitiously waved her wand over Harry's in box and she had to chuckle. Monat's cheeks turned bright red as she looked over her shoulder at Ginny.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," she apologized. "It's protocol."

"Don't worry," Ginny replied. "I'm not offended." She entered Harry's office and sat nimbly in his chair. "I'll only be a moment."

"I'll fetch your brother, if he is still here," Monat offered. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks, Monat," Ginny said, pulling Harry's top desk drawer open, looking for parchment. Monat was sweet, but incredibly insecure, and far too apologetic. Ginny didn't think she was that intimidating, at least she didn't think she came across that way. Shrugging, she dug around in the drawer, pulling out a balled up piece of parchment along with some blank ones. She rolled her eyes at the ball, remembering Harry's penchant to hold on to rubbish for inexplicable reasons. His desk drawer at home was the same way, with broken quill tips, empty inkbottles, and pieces of ripped parchment. She was about to toss the crumpled parchment into the rubbish bin when the writing caught her eye. She recognized the handwriting immediately and a red haze filmed over her vision and she angrily smoothed out the parchment in order to see what was written upon it.

"That slimey git," she growled.

"Uh oh," Ron's voice said from the doorway. "What did Harry do now?"

Ginny looked up to see her brother and scowled. "Malfoy sent Harry a letter."

"What?" Ron asked, stepping into the office.

Ginny held the parchment out for her brother to see. "This is harassment."

"I think you are jumping to conclusions, Ginny," Ron said. "I saw Harry before he left, and he didn't seem upset. In fact, he didn't even mention that he had heard from Malfoy. What are you doing looking through his drawers anyway?"

"I was leaving him a note," Ginny defended, grabbing a self-inking quill and quickly scribbling a note for Harry explaining that she had stopped by, was extremely sorry she had missed him, and that she loved him. She left it and the quill on his desk, before balling the letter from Malfoy back up and placing it back in the drawer where she had found it. "I suppose I was being nosey, but why does he think he has any right to send Harry notes?"

Ron shrugged. "He's bored? I think you are upset over nothing, and Harry would tell you the same."

Ginny looked up at her brother. "That doesn't mean I don't still think Malfoy is a bloody wanker."

"My sentiments exactly," Ron agreed. "But at least he's way out in the middle of the sea on a rock called Azkaban."

"Only for another month," Ginny reminded him. "I hope he doesn't have plans on showing up on our doorstep because he will not be welcome – ever!"

"Do you think he would do that?" Ron asked.

"I just don't understand what he is playing at," Ginny responded, standing up and walking over to her brother. "What do you think about it?"

"He's looney," Ron suggested and Ginny had to laugh.

"That's what Harry told me when he came back from visiting him," Ginny informed him. "I suppose you both are right. But Ron, Harry had nightmares after visiting Malfoy. He doesn't need that git fuelling the fire anymore. _I _don't need it. We are finally on-track as far as moving on from all of the horrors of the past."

"I know," Ron agreed, walking with her back towards the reception area. "If anyone deserves some happiness, it's you and Harry. Speaking of moving on," he continued lightly in an unveiled attempt to change the conversation. "Hermione and I are looking forward to seeing your new house this weekend."

Ginny smiled up at her brother and his sentiment that he was quick to overlap with practical matters to avoid being gushed over. "Thanks for agreeing to help us. It means a lot, you know."

"We know," Ron said, smiling. "Listen, I'd go to lunch with you myself Ginny, but I have a mountain of paperwork to finish. We'll see you Saturday, all right?"

"All right, Ron," Ginny replied and gave him a hug before he departed.

Her plans to surprise Harry may have been dashed, but it had been nice to have a short chat with Ron. She was happy to see how well being married to Hermione suited him. It was sweet that he had attempted to ease her mind regarding Malfoy, but her hackles were still raised that Malfoy had had the audacity to think he could write to Harry as if they were old friends. Now she also had the added dilemma of what to do about the knowledge she had regarding the letter. She supposed she was going to have to be honest with Harry and inform him that she had invaded his privacy and read the note. She didn't think he would be upset, but she felt guilty, all the same.

She arrived at the Harpies stadium an hour ahead of the scheduled practice and quickly changed into her kit. Grabbing her broom from the broom locker, Ginny headed out onto the pitch and jumped on her broom to soar high in the air. She made several circuits around the pitch, varying her speed and height before pointing the broom handle towards the sky and flying up far past the fifteen metre goal and not stopping until she was over twenty metres high. Hovering in the air she gazed back down towards the stadium and saw some of her teammates had gathered in the lower stands waiting for Gwenog to arrive and start the drills for the afternoon. Ginny knew she still had several minutes before she needed to return to the ground and looked out towards the horizon. A Muggle airplane the size of a toy from this distance flew across the sky, leaving twin streams of white behind it.

Ginny watched it until it disappeared, reflecting on the two encounters Harry had had with Malfoy, one in person and the other through the note she had read. She wondered how the note had affected him. If she was to believe Ron, Harry was unconcerned, and Ginny wished she could say the same. If she had her way the first time Malfoy had contacted Harry, she would have visited the git herself and given him a piece of her mind. She wasn't sure if that would have been before or after she had hexed him, but either way his ears would have been ringing. At the moment, all she really wanted to do was interrogate her husband and find out how he felt regarding the entire matter; there was just the little problem that she was stuck at Quidditch practice until at least seven that evening. It was going to be a long afternoon, to be certain, and sighing she headed back down towards the pitch when she saw Gwenog enter the pitch.

Surprisingly enough, Ginny was able to focus on the practice and envisioned Malfoy's face in the goal posts every time she was up to score and that technique worked very well. She didn't miss a single shot and won high praise from Gwenog before practice was over.

Having a successful day on the pitch did wonders for Ginny's mood and by the time she arrived home she wasn't as worried about reading that silly note from Malfoy. Stepping out of the grate in the flat she spied Harry hunched over some paperwork at his desk, but he instantly turned around to flash a smile upon her arrival.

"Hello, love," Ginny said as she unhooked her cloak and tossed it onto the couch.

"Hi, Gin," Harry said, rising. "Monat told me I missed you today. I'm sorry, if I had known you'd be stopping by I would have arranged my meeting for later in the afternoon."

Ginny shrugged, turning the shrug into a roll of her shoulders as she worked out a couple of kinks. "That's all right. I was able to chat with Ron for a bit."

"He said," Harry commented gazing steadily over at her and making her feel instantly uncomfortable. Suddenly the worry crashed back down on her, but this time it was centred solely on her blatant invasion of his privacy rather than any misgivings she had regarding Malfoy.

All the same she held his gaze. "I suppose Ron mentioned what we discussed?"

"A bit," Harry said, joining her by the couch where she realized she had failed to move from to give him their normal greeting kiss. He leaned down and kissed her warmly before taking her hands and pulling her down onto the couch next to him. "So," Harry continued, turning her away from him in order to gently massage her shoulders. "How did you get on the subject of Malfoy, Gin?"

She smiled sweetly over her shoulder at him. "Thank you, that feels good," she commented before answering his question. "I may have seen a note he sent you today. Purely by accident, mind you!" she defended herself and rushed on. "I was looking for parchment to write you the note I left and I saw the balled up piece and recognized his handwriting. I'm sorry; I just had to know what the wanker was writing to you!"

Harry nodded. "I don't care that you read it. I would have told you about it anyway. I hope Ron didn't make you feel too badly, Gin."

She shook her head in relief. "No, he thought I was being paranoid regarding Malfoy's motives. What do you think about it?"

"I think Malfoy has a lot of time on his hands," Harry said slowly. "And I'm not too concerned about it." He fell silent as he pressed his thumbs between her shoulders where she held most of her tension. Ginny sighed contentedly, feeling his warm breath on her neck. His fingers made circular motions in the middle of her shoulder blades, firmly kneading the muscles underneath and Ginny sighed again as she relaxed.

"If you're not concerned, I won't be," Ginny declared. "But, I still think he's a git."

Harry chuckled. "I'm not going to argue with you over that statement."

"So, no need for me to worry that the two of you are going to become quill pals?" Ginny teased.

"Most definitely not," Harry affirmed, horrified.

"Just checking," Ginny replied, with a smile and leaned back against him. "A girl could get used to this."

"Uh oh," Harry said with mock worry. "Now you're going to expect this kind of service every night."

"Oh, I don't know, Harry," Ginny coquettishly said. "I may return the favour."

"Really?" his voice brightened and she could just imagine the huge grin on his face.

"Sure," Ginny purred, gracefully rising and stretching languidly like a cat. "After we finish packing up the kitchen."

Harry flopped back against the couch and groaned. "I knew there was a catch."

Ginny smiled broadly over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen and called. "Oh, there's always a catch, Harry."

"What happened to feeling guilty over reading my personal mail?" Harry whinged.

"You told me you didn't care," Ginny airily replied, and laughed merrily as he grumbled about her being a tease and stomped into the kitchen after her. "Besides, Harry, I promise I will make it worth your while." Removing an apron from a hook by the sink, she slipped it over her head and tied it loosely around her waist. "I'll make dinner."

"That's not what I had in mind, but I suppose it's a fair enough trade," Harry replied, opening the trunk and pulling out a stack of tissue paper to wrap the dishes in before placing them in the trunk.

Ginny truly enjoyed spending moments like this with Harry. She never would have imagined while they were in school that there would actually ever come a time she would be fixing him dinner while he packed dishes. Of course she had day-dreamed of marital bliss with him, but a teenage girl's dreams never matched reality, and reality, Ginny had found out, was so much better.

**hghghghg ghghghhg**

Draco nervously paced back and forth inside his cell. His mother was coming for a visit today, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see her. She spent most of the time when she visited crying over him, his father, herself and their lot in life. At first he had hated to see her cry, but now he detested it because he couldn't help but think that she wasn't crying for him, but for herself. She was alone in the world, with no one to take care of her any longer. Her husband was locked away for life and even though Draco was in Azkaban as well, he never saw his father and never wanted to. He hated his father for what he had done to him and wanted nothing more to do with him.

Draco would never understand why his mother still loved his father and visited him. His father hadn't treated her any better than he had treated Draco. While Draco lay most of the blame on his father for the way his life had turned out, he couldn't help but be angry with his mother that she hadn't tried harder to protect him. He had no doubt she had done everything in her power to do so, but it hadn't been enough and he had a hard time truly feeling sorry for his mother when, at least she was free. Perhaps she had to work for the first time in her life, but she was free from the yoke of the Dark Lord. He wondered if she was being plagued, as he was, with visions of nightmares past and threats of dreams future.

Over the past week, Draco had continued to have nightmares of his time spent in the presence of the Dark Lord. Sometimes he dreamed of his torture again, and each time he attempted to change the outcome with no success, and he was forced to live out the humiliation over and over again. Other times, blurry images and muffled voices of overheard conversations tormented him and he strained to see and hear in greater detail all that was discussed. He felt the information contained in these latter dreams was important, but it was if something was keeping him from remembering them clearly.

For some inexplicable reason, the tattered black diary his father had been very keen on disposing of before Draco's second year would occasionally appear. In his most recent nightmare, the nondescript book had been innocently lying on the throne-like chair Lord Voldemort always occupied. Draco had felt drawn to the book like a moth to a flame and had walked quickly across the marble floor until he was standing in front of the chair. Reaching out, he had opened the book and a flickering picture had entranced him. He brought it closer, in order to see the picture better and voices whispered around him, the Dark Lord's and others, innocuously as first. _I'm Tom Riddle. My name is Ginevra Weasley. My name is Harry Potter. I am at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._ None of it made any sense. Why were Harry and Ginny Potter whispering in his ear?

He'd been pulled into the scene, no matter how he resisted, and back to the Valentine's Day of his second year. Draco remembered laughing with Crabbe and Goyle all day, watching those stupid dwarves Lockhart had enchanted delivering the Valentine's and then the best part of his day had occurred. Potter beating a dwarf with his rucksack and playing tug-o-war as the ugly cupid tried to deliver the Weaslette's atrocious poem. Draco howled with laughter before spying the diary and pouncing, goading Potter over writing into it like a love-struck little girl. As Draco touched the diary in his dream, his hand burned as feelings of extreme venom washed over him and Draco had awoken drenched in perspiration and shivering with fear.

So far, that dream had been the worst, despite having the opportunity to laugh at Potter's expense again, because Draco had instantly felt a presence sharing the cell with him. He had remained frozen in his bed, fearing that if he moved, the manifestation of whatever it was would seize him.

He hoped his mother would have some answers for him, so when his usual guard, Malcolm Van Hyning approached his cell, Draco wasted little time to follow him down the corridor. There were days when Draco was feeling profoundly lonely, that he would attempt to draw the burly guard into conversation. However, Van Hyning was of the tough stock the Ministry clearly looked for in its Azkaban guards, and he hardly ever replied or acknowledged Draco.

Today, Draco was reserving his energy for the conversation with his mother, and the trek to the visitation room was made in silence. When they reached the room, Van Hyning shoved the door open and stepped aside to allow Draco to enter first. He then followed and took up a position just next to the door where he could silently observe. Narcissa was seated at the table, but when she saw Draco, she rose immediately and a smile spread over her face. She began to reach out to him, but touching was strictly forbidden, so as soon as she had started the gesture she stopped and dropped her arms back to her sides.

Draco returned her smile and sat in the chair across for her and waited for her to settle back into her seat.

"Draco," his mother said. "You look well."

Draco snorted, knowing full well she was lying. While he hadn't checked his appearance in the mirror, he could imagine the dark circles that graced his eyes, and scrubbed his hands over the rough stubble on his chin and cheeks, and through his long, shaggy hair. She looked just as miserable as he felt, her hair pulled back in an untidy chignon with tendrils hanging limply over her shoulders and brow. Her once magnificent robes were tattered and worn and her face was pale.

"You look the same as always, Mother."

"I know how I look." Her eyes teared up and she gazed over at him. "I miss you terribly!" Forgetting, she reached for him and managed to squeeze his hand before Van Hyning barked from his corner, 'No touching!' Draco held back the snort of laughter as his mother jumped and quickly withdrew her hands, flicking her eyes nervously towards Van Hyning.

"Are you still in the flat at Knockturn Alley?" Draco asked, hoping to spur the conversation along.

"Yes, there's a room for you, if all goes well at your parole hearing in a few weeks," she said, hope colouring her voice. "It's better than some, I suppose, but it is cold, draughty, and infested with rats."

"It sounds like my lodgings here," Draco quipped, knowing the subtle dig would cause his mother to cry some more. "I'm sure I will feel right at home, Mother."

"You don't belong here," she sniffed and the noise grated on his nerves as the sound of fingernails on a chalkboard would.

"Mother," Draco said loudly, ignoring her blubbering. "We don't have much time and I have some questions to ask you."

Pulling a handkerchief from her robe pocket, she wiped her nose and looked over at Draco. "Oh, what are they?"

"Do you remember the black book father attempted to discard?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Narcissa said. "Why?"

"I recall Lord Voldemort, when he came to stay with us, was extremely angry with father when he discovered the book had been destroyed," Draco remarked. "It has plagued my dreams lately."

His mother's mouth puckered in revulsion at the mention of the book. "It was a vile thing and I, for one, was glad when your father was rid of it. However, you are right, the Dark Lord was furious with him. He had entrusted it to your father for safe keeping until his return."

"But why?" Draco prodded.

"I don't know," his mother admitted, shaking her head. "The Dark Lord kept many things close, and never allowed any of his followers to know anything of importance."

"What about Aunt Bellatrix?" Draco asked. "Surely he confided in her."

"Perhaps," his mother mused. "She was always quick to gloat how he favoured her over us, but she never shared any secrets he may have divulged to her. It was disgusting how she would grovel at his feet like a common dog."

"If you despised him so much, why did you follow him?" Draco asked.

"Your life would have been forfeit if you turned against him, you know that," his mother replied.

"And our lives have turned out so well," Draco seethed, feeling anger bubbling up within him.

"Would you rather be dead?" his mother asked in shock.

"Quite honestly, I sometimes think I would be better off," Draco ground out, glaring across the table at her and causing her to recoil in shock. He looked down at his hands resting upon the table, realizing his was clenching them tightly and loosened them. "I have been having terrible dreams, Mother," he admitted. "Not just of that book, but of our time with the Dark Lord. At first, I thought they were just that, dreams, but they seem to be more. Past and present mingle together and sometimes I can't tell what is real or not. I feel a malevolent presence hovering over me, attempting to break me down, or maybe I'm simply going crazy."

His mother's eyes flickered with fear and Draco was immediately sorry he had said anything to his mother.

"Your father has spoken of similar dreams and misgivings," his mother remarked, causing Draco's own eyes to widen in surprise. "I can only imagine what living in this horrible place does to your mind. I can't wait until you are free of it, Draco."

"Me too," Draco agreed, pleased to know that if he was suffering, at least his father was, as well. Not wanting to talk further about his father, he steered the conversation away from the dark topic.

He spent the remainder of his mother's visit hearing about her work at Borgin and Burkes, surprised to hear that she actually enjoyed it most of the time, despite the fact that it was the first time in her entire life that she had had to work. It filled her admittedly lonely days and made the time pass relatively quickly. Draco then told her of Astoria's visits and his growing feelings for the young witch. His mother was pleased to hear this happy news, expressing her hope that Astoria felt the same way, and Draco silently concurred.

Van Hyning soon called time and Narcissa reluctantly bid Draco good-bye. Draco followed his guard back down the corridor towards his dingy cell.

"You could have allowed my mother a simple touch, Mal," Draco complained to Van Hyning's back.

"Protocol," was Van Hyning's gruff reply.

"I thought we were friends," Draco groused, dread filling him as they approached his cell.

"Only in your dreams, Malfoy," Van Hyning said with a slight smile, opening the door and gesturing Draco inside.

Draco ignored the jab and entered the small space. Just a few weeks more and then maybe he could leave this dark place and the dark spirit behind.


	7. Ch 6 - Moving Day

**Author's notes: **Many thanks to my two fantastic betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny. They are amazing. I hope you will enjoy, and as always, any reviews, good are bad are very welcome.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Standing in the empty flat on Saturday, Harry felt a small twinge of regret that they were leaving so suddenly. He supposed it wasn't really all that sudden since he and Ginny had been talking about moving for several months and began looking sporadically on their own right after the Quidditch final. Then one morning they were strolling down Diagon Alley discussing what they should do that day when suddenly they were passing the estate agent's office and thought it would be fun to pop in just to see what they had to show them. The next thing he knew they were arranging to buy a house and three weeks later they were moving.

Alithea, a tawny owl Harry had purchased for Ginny when she returned to Hogwarts for her seventh year, had flown off in the dark of night the previous evening to avoid undue attention from Muggles and hopefully would arrive at Wildebrook later in the day. He and Ginny had spent the remainder of the evening packing up everything that had needed to wait until the last minute and Ron and Hermione had arrived in the morning to help them with the furniture.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked. "You look a bit like you did on your wedding day."

"I'm just realizing what a big step this is," Harry answered. "Being a home owner is a big responsibility. Part of the reason we decided not to live in Grimmauld Place was because it's a lot easier to call upon the landlord to repair things when they are broken or stop working."

"And the depressing décor had little to do with that decision," Ron quipped.

"We could have fixed it up if we wanted to," Harry said defensively despite the fact that he agreed one hundred percent with Ron's assessment of Sirius' boyhood home. "I'd already started on some of it."

"You're better off, Harry," Ron said. "There are too many bad memories there. That wouldn't have been a good way to start off your new life."

"When did you become so sage?" Harry asked.

"I'm married to one of the smartest witches we know. It was bound to rub off on me," Ron remarked, smiling smugly.

Harry's snort of disbelief resulted in a somewhat playful punch from Ron on the shoulder, which led to them sparring around the empty sitting room until Ron tripped over one of the satchels Hermione had brought to place the trunks, boxes, and furniture in. Harry winced when he heard the tinkle of something breaking within it as Ron fell over the bag to land on his back.

"Have you two finished shrinking and packing up the furniture in here?" Hermione asked standing in the doorway with her arms crossed in front of her, while Ginny stood behind her smirking.

Scrambling to his feet, Ron lifted the satchel he'd just nearly crushed and yelped out a 'yes' that sent Harry and Ginny into peals of laughter. Hermione acted like she was upset over the apparent juvenility of her husband and best friend, but the corner of her mouth quirked up and Harry knew she wasn't truly angry. Besides, it was probably his favourite lamp that had just been squashed by his best mate's big, loping feet, so if anyone should be upset, it was Harry.

Hermione and Ginny each carried a satchel and there were two left for him and Ron. It was hard to believe that everything they owned could be reduced to four bags. More than likely it all would have fit in three, but Hermione, being the perfectionist that she was, wanted each room to have its own bag. Harry wasn't certain how the loo had been deemed worthy of its own bag, but he wasn't about to question Hermione regarding that particular.

"Well," Ginny said, looking a bit melancholy herself. "I suppose this is it then. We connected the Floo network from the flat to Wildebrook for the morning, right Harry?"

Harry nodded. "We have until three this afternoon, just in case we discover we forgot something. After that we'll have to Apparate, but let's make sure we have everything. I'd rather not have to Apparate back unless it's absolutely necessary."

"We checked the bedroom and bath thoroughly," Ginny replied. "So, as long as you and Ron have checked the kitchen and sitting room, we should be ready to go." She looked between Harry and Ron sternly and Harry smiled.

"Everything from those two rooms is in these bags, I swear," he replied. "All right then, let's head over."

They each picked up a bag and took a pinch of Floo Powder from the pot Harry had kept out. Ginny stepped in first, blowing him a kiss as she twirled away and Ron and Hermione followed after her. After stowing the pot inside the bag he was holding, Harry stepped in the grate and bid a silent good-bye to the flat before it spun away.

"Harry, Ginny, what I have seen so far is beautiful!" Hermione gushed indicating the sitting room and foyer beyond as soon as Harry stepped out of the grate at Wildebrook. She immediately walked over to the window, setting her satchel on the ledge to look out at the front garden and gravel turnaround.

Ron joined her and whistled loudly. "Oi, Harry. I had forgotten how beautiful your car is."

"Ron, you have seen their car before!" Hermione chided. "What about their new house?"

"Oh, yeah, it's beautiful as well," Ron agreed. "What I have seen of it so far. This sitting room is simply amazing, Ginny. Just imagine all the tea parties you can have here with all your little girlfriends." He turned back around and grinned slyly at his sister. "Do you remember the tea parties you used to have under the tree in the garden at home when you were little?"

"Shut it, Ron," Ginny warned. "Instead of reminiscing, why don't you start unpacking your satchel and repairing whatever it is you broke in there when you stepped on it." She quickly walked over and grabbed Hermione's hand. "Come on, Hermione. I want to show you the master bedroom. You won't believe the view from up there!"

Ginny and Hermione headed out of the sitting room and Harry could hear Hermione oohing and aahing over the stained glass windows as she ascended the stairs. Ron opened his satchel and peered inside.

"Looks like this is all the stuff from your sitting room, mate," he said, glancing up at Harry. "Do you want it in here?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Ginny would like to buy new furniture for this room. There's a smaller sitting room through the entryway opposite the front windows I plan on using for a study. I think all of this will fit in there."

Ron nodded, pulling out a smashed lamp shade and the bent brass stand of the accompanying floor lamp Harry had feared been broken. "I can fix this, no problem."

"I'm sure you can," Harry said, heading towards the study. "I'm going to the kitchen to empty this bag out. Why don't you do the same in the study and then I can show you the rest of the house."

"That sounds good," Ron said agreeably and followed after Harry.

Harry continued through the study and down the short passage to the kitchen. Setting his bag on the work space, he opened it up and reached inside. The first thing he pulled out was the trunk that contained all the cook ware and dishes. He set the trunk on the floor and returned it to its normal size before sliding it against the wall by the sunroom. Looking back inside the bag he brought out the worn, round wooden table, enlarged it and placed it in the middle of the kitchen. He'd let Ginny decide where she wanted it later. He arranged the four chairs around it and finally brought out the box that held the foodstuffs they had left over from the flat. He carried it into the pantry before enlarging it and set it on the floor.

Kneeling, Harry opened it up and glanced inside. It contained an odd assortment of condiments, vials and envelopes of potion ingredients, half a loaf of bread, and some boxes of crisps and biscuits. They definitely needed to go shopping for food and furniture. The front two rooms of the house were completely empty and they didn't have any bedroom furniture for the three rooms on the first floor.

"Harry," Ron called from the kitchen. "Have you finished emptying your bag?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, debating whether he should unpack the box now or wait until later.

"I'm going to put it in the cupboard with mine," Ron said as he walked past the opened door to the pantry.

"All right, I'll be right out," Harry said. He lifted out several vials and placed them on a shelf and then waved his wand so the rest of the items flew out of the box and jumbled on the shelf as well. He didn't bother to place them in any kind of order, as he knew that Ginny would more than likely redo it all to her liking anyway.

Harry was shoving the moving box under the bottom shelf when a yelp of terror came from the foyer where Ron had gone to place the empty satchels in the cupboard. Harry ran out of the pantry and down the short passage by the stairs, and he could hear Ginny and Hermione's pounding footsteps running from above.

"Ron, what's going on?" Harry asked, seeing his friend stomping about the floor.

"Wolf spiders," Ron answered, his face stark white. "I opened the cupboard and a big one crawled out, I stepped on it and hundreds of baby spiders went crawling out in all directions."

Ginny made a face of disgust as she stepped off the stairs into the foyer. "Oh, even I think that's creepy." She began stomping the floor along with her brother, while Hermione pulled out her wand and uttered _Exterminatus_, waving her wand about and effectively stopping any spiders still crawling. Harry joined her and soon they had cleared the foyer of the unwelcome arachnids.

Ron stood in the corner by the front door staring all over the floor to ensure there weren't any more. "You'd think after everything we'd been through I'd be over that particular phobia."

"That's why it's called a phobia, Ron," Hermione explained. "What scares us the most doesn't always make sense."

"I think they are all gone," Ginny said, using vanishing and scouring charms to clean the parquet floor of the smashed spiders and then quickly did the same within the cupboard.

"I really hate spiders," Ron remarked.

"We know, love," Hermione said, taking his hand and rubbing his arm reassuringly. "Why don't we step outside for a moment and breathe in some fresh air?"

"That sounds good," Ron said and allowed her to guide him towards the front door and outside to stand on the front stoop.

Ginny walked over to where Harry was standing and linked her arm through his. "Poor Ron. He's been afraid of spiders for so long. I don't think there is any hope of him ever getting over it."

"I suppose not," Harry agreed. "Were you able to accomplish anything upstairs?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "Hermione helped me set out the furniture and make up the bed. We can arrange it later where we want it. We still have the trunks and boxes to unpack. How about you and Ron?"

"I unpacked the kitchen stuff, well, except for the trunk," Harry said, making a face.

"I know how you feel about doing the dishes, Harry," Ginny smirked. "That's all right, it's not like we have to rush."

"Ron unpacked the study, so I have no idea what that may look like," Harry admitted.

"Let's give them a moment alone and go check," Ginny suggested and pulled on Harry's arm to lead him back down the corridor through the kitchen and down the shorter passage to the study.

Gazing about, Harry had to admit that Ron hadn't done too bad a job. Harry actually liked where his friend had placed the desk, several feet in front of the built-in bookcase. The couch sat off-centre against the opposite wall, so anyone sitting on it would be able to look out the two corner windows. The small oval coffee table sat in front of the couch, and the repaired lamp stood in another corner by one end of the couch. Lastly, Alithea's perch had been placed in the corner between the two windows behind his desk.

"Not bad," Ginny commented, looking around. "What do you think?"

"I agree," Harry said. "Who knew Ron had such decorative skill? And he repaired my lamp, too."

Ginny glanced at the lamp in question. "Why do you like that thing so much?"

Harry shrugged, looking over the non-descript lamp with the brass stand and burgundy lampshade. "I suppose it's because it was one of the first things I bought that didn't have anything to do with school."

"I can understand that," Ginny conceded. "Do you want to tackle that trunk now?" She pointed towards the trunk that Ron had set next to Harry's desk. Harry thought of the books and odds and ends contained within it and knew he wasn't in the right frame of mind to unpack it at the moment.

"Let's leave that for later, as well," he said. "Like you said, there's no need to rush. Maybe we should step outside and check on Ron and Hermione?"

Ginny nodded, and taking her hand, Harry led her through the front sitting room and out the front door. Standing on the top step Harry looked around to find Ron and Hermione and saw them standing under the oak tree with none other than Ginny's parents. Ron looked to have collected himself and the four of them were gazing at the house and talking. When they saw Harry and Ginny, they waved and headed towards them.

"Did you expect your parents today?" Harry asked quietly.

"No," Ginny said, puzzled. "I told Mum I was hoping to have the house in order before they saw it."

"I don't have to guess why," Harry managed to say before the group was in ear shot, and Ginny gave him a firm dig in the ribs with her elbow, that made him wince slightly.

"Mum, Dad!" Ginny beamed. "We weren't expecting you today."

"We know, dear," Molly said, smiling broadly. "We wanted to surprise you."

"Well, consider us surprised," Harry said with a smile as well. "We're glad you're here. What do you think of Wildebrook?"

"It's lovely," Molly gushed. "The countryside is breathtaking."

"It certainly is," Arthur agreed. "Do you need any help with the warding, Harry? I'd be more than happy to lend my services since we are here."

Harry had already performed some of the preliminary warding the previous weekend when he and Ginny had visited the property. He'd been sure to erect the Muggle-Repelling Charm as well as a hasty Reporter-RepellingCharm over the house, but could certainly use the help to reinforce those as well as add a few more.

"That would be fantastic, Arthur," Harry answered. "I'd like to cast an Intruder Charm over the house today, if nothing else."

"The three of us can handle that easily, while Ginny shows Mum and Hermione around the house and procure the lunch you promised me," Ron offered, and Harry knew his friend still wasn't keen on setting foot back inside just yet.

"Before we set off with our tasks," Molly interjected. "Your father and I brought you two a little something for the house." She looked over at Harry and Ginny and then back towards Arthur. He pulled a small wooden crate from within his robes and offered it to Ginny. Ginny accepted the box and holding it in the palm of one hand, opened the lid so Harry could peer inside as well. Nestled in the box was Ginny's bedroom furniture from The Burrow. Ginny looked back up at her parents in surprised confusion.

"Well," Molly began in explanation. "You only had a one-bedroom flat and your father and I thought you might be able to use that furniture in one of your spare rooms."

"We also thought we would buy something a bit nicer for your room at home," Arthur continued. "So when you do come to visit, you don't have to enlarge the bed."

"You didn't have to do that," Ginny said. "We don't mind, do we, Harry?"

"No, not at all," Harry agreed.

"It's no trouble, really," Molly said uncertainly, looking at the two of them and her face fell. "Oh, perhaps you were hoping to purchase new furniture for those rooms."

"No, Mum," Ginny hastily said, her eyes tearing up. "I love it. I really do. Thank you so much. It will bring a nice touch of my childhood home here."

"Oh, Ginny!" Molly exclaimed rushing at her daughter, and Ginny quickly handed the box to Harry before she was engulfed in her mother's arms. "I'm so sorry I berated you the other day!" Molly continued her voice muffled in Ginny's shoulder. "My wonderful, girl." She pulled back and looked at Ginny and then to Harry. "I know you two better than that. I'm so sorry I succumbed to believing the word of a reporter over you."

"It's all right, Mum," Ginny soothed. "I forgive you. I know it's been hard on you."

"It's one of the reasons we chose to move," Harry added. "We would like a bit more privacy." He looked at Ginny for agreement and she nodded her head.

"Well, I don't think you will have to worry too much about that here," Arthur said. "I'd really like a tour of the house, as well, before we start on the wards, if that is all right?"

"Or course, Dad," Ginny said and letting go of Harry's hand, stepped back into the foyer. Molly and Arthur followed, as did Hermione, but Ron hesitated a moment. Harry handed the box to Ginny and glanced back at Ron.

"I think Ron and I will start casting the Intruder Charm while you do that, if that is all right?" Harry asked.

Ginny nodded and led her parents and Hermione deeper inside the house for the tour. Ron gave Harry a look of appreciation and they began casting the charm in companionable silence. Arthur joined them shortly after, commenting on how spacious the house was. Harry was glad to have the extra help casting the wards, as it considerably cut the time down it would have taken him.

When they were finished, they headed back inside to find the women and following the sounds of their voices discovered them sitting in the kitchen at the table. One of them had conjured two more chairs and several small white boxes were stacked in the middle of the table. Ron's whoop of joy nearly deafened them all and he wasted little time taking a seat next to Hermione and digging in.

Naturally, Arthur found the chopsticks to be as fascinating as his son had, and insisted on attempting to eat his meal with them as well. The only one of them who was at all proficient with the utensils was Hermione and despite Ron and Arthur's best efforts, most of their food was winding up down the front of their robes. Finally having endured enough, Molly yelled at the two of them to eat their food like normal wizards and transfigured the chopsticks in their hands into forks.

Harry and Ginny began snickering over this and soon everyone around the table was laughing and it felt very much to Harry like the summers of long ago that he had spent at The Burrow, when all the Weasleys were present and accounted for. Ginny looked over at him, smiling, and impulsively he leaned in and kissed her. When they broke apart, Ron, Hermione, and Arthur were still laughing, but Molly was watching them with glistening eyes and a soft smile touching her lips. Harry was glad he had acted on the impulse because he knew that even though Molly knew he loved Ginny more than anything else in the world, small acts such as a simple kiss at lunch sent the message clearer than words ever could.

When they had all eaten their fill with forks for the remainder of the lunch, Ron excitedly dug around inside the brown paper sack, pulling out the fortune cookies and passing them around.

"This is my other favourite part," he explained to his parents, as he tore the cellophane wrapper. "It's a Muggle way of predicting the future."

"They aren't really predicting anything," Hermione explained. "Most of them are ancient quotes used to enforce more positive outlooks towards life."

"It's just for fun, Hermione," Ginny said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. She handed everyone a cookie and waited until everyone had removed their cookie from its wrapping before continuing. "Everyone has to take a turn reading their fortune aloud; it's a tradition. I'll go first so Mum and Dad will know how to do it." She cracked her cookie in half and pulled the slip of paper out, snorting as she caught a glimpse of her fortune. "'You will overcome difficult times.' Bah! That's not a very fun fortune, but I suppose it's somewhat fitting. Ron, you go next."

Ron enthusiastically broke his cookie in half and Harry had to grin at his friend's somewhat childish joy in such a simple act. It reminded him of Arthur when he found a new Muggle contraption to tinker with.

Ron held his fortune aloft and cleared his throat. "'Your many hidden talents will become obvious to those around you.' Well, it's about bloody time!"

"Ronald! Language!" Molly and Hermione admonished at the same time, which caused Harry and Ginny to roar with laughter, and even Arthur joined in chuckling. The tips of Ron's ears turned bright pink as he mumbled an apology, which only made things worse and soon everyone, including Ron was in tears from laughing so hard.

Finally, after catching his breath, Ron walked over and put his arm around Hermione. "All right, mother hen what's your fortune say?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she read over her scrap of paper. "'The object of your desire comes closer.'"

Ron grinned lasciviously and declared, "That's more like it!" before swooping in for a kiss, which Hermione weakly resisted.

"Ewww!" Ginny cried. "Would you mind not pawing at each other in my brand new kitchen?"

This was followed by more guffaws of laughter, with Hermione looking thoroughly embarrassed, and Harry didn't blame her. However, even Arthur and Molly were amused by the display of affection, but Ginny stomped over and pried her brother and sister-in-law apart. "Save it for later. Mum, Dad, and Harry still need to read their fortunes."

Ron and Hermione settled back into their seats and Molly tentatively broke her cookie and looked her fortune over, her brow furrowing slightly. "'You are vigorous in words and actions.'"

"That couldn't be more precise if it tried, Mollywobbles," Arthur declared, smiling over at his wife.

"Arthur!" Molly exclaimed, colouring, and the four younger adults began to snicker again before Molly shot them each a glare. "Go on, Arthur, read yours."

Arthur split his cookie in two and looked at his fortune expectantly. "Well, this is something. 'Some pursue happiness; you create it.' Seems rather ambiguous."

"I don't think so, Dad," Ginny remarked. "You always seem to be able to put a positive spin on just about anything."

"Do you think so?" Arthur asked, looking around the table.

"It's one of the reasons I love you dear," Molly answered, looking warmly over at her husband and smiling softly. Harry had had no idea reading fortune cookies aloud would have elicited such responses from everyone, or that it would turn into such a game. He glanced over at Ginny who sat in her chair, looking happy and relaxed. She smiled back at him and said, "Your turn, Harry."

Harry broke his cookie and pulled the fortune from within. "'There is someone rather annoying in your life that you need to listen to.'" He creased his brow in dismay, thinking suddenly of Malfoy and his dire warnings. "That's about as good as yours, Gin."

Ron nearly doubled-over with laughter. "Ah, Harry! I suppose that means you'll be visiting a certain someone out at Azkaban again sometime soon!"

Harry groaned and Ginny smirked. "I think this means we lose, love," she lightly said, and squeezed his shoulder.

All in all it had turned out to be a very pleasant day, and after helping Ginny arrange her bedroom furniture in the largest of the three bedrooms on the first floor her parents bid them a fond farewell. Ron and Hermione lingered only a few moments longer expressing their congratulations and how nice it had been spending the day together. After their guests had departed, Harry and Ginny collapsed on the couch in the study just as Alithea flew in through the opened window. Alithea immediately settled on her perch in the corner behind the desk.

"I think Alithea will like it here, don't you?" Ginny asked, watching Alithea gently preen her feathers.

"I can't imagine why she wouldn't," Harry answered. "There's a lot more room to roam out here than there was in London."

"I wish I didn't have a match tomorrow," Ginny sighed. "It'd be nice to spend the day together, maybe go furniture shopping."

"Well, maybe we can find some time next week," Harry suggested.

Ginny opened her mouth to respond when a loud thump sounded from above them. Harry furrowed his brow and Ginny, who looked equally puzzled, asked instead. "What was that, do you suppose?"

"Sounds like something fell," Harry said, rising from the couch. Ginny followed and they headed up the stairs. The late afternoon sun was streaming through the stained glass windows on the landings of the stairs, casting a rainbow of colour over the wooden steps. When they reached the first floor landing, they checked each bedroom as well as the bathroom, but nothing seemed amiss.

They walked up the final flight to the second floor, passing through the still empty dressing room into the master bedroom. Their school trunks were standing by the open wardrobe doorway and Harry could see that the trapdoor leading to the attic was opened, with the ladder extended to the floor. Ginny spied it as well and looked perplexed.

"Hermione and I carried a couple of empty boxes up to the attic when we finished setting up the room, but I'm certain we closed the door afterwards," Ginny remarked.

"I'm sure that's what the noise was that we heard," Harry commented, walking into the closet, lifting the door and shutting it firmly. "Perhaps it didn't latch completely the first time. Mystery solved. If only all my cases were that simple."

"Then you'd be bored," Ginny teased, joining him inside the wardrobe and wrapping her arms around his waist. "Hmm, this reminds me of the broom cupboards at Hogwarts. I miss those days."

Harry snorted. "We have a brand new house, with multiple rooms and you want to snog in a walk-in?"

"To start," Ginny cooed in his ear.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Later that evening after a good snog in the wardrobe, followed by a carryout dinner of pizza and pints, Harry was dozing on Ginny's chest in their bed while she contentedly ran her fingers through his thick black hair. A faint smile graced her lips thinking that while her brother's new favourite Muggle discovery was Chinese food, hers had been pizza. The novelty of the savoury pie had yet to wear off and she thought that it definitely needed to be introduced into the Wizarding world in a much more permanent way.

Her eyes were drooping when she heard a soft sound, as if someone was treading quietly by at the foot of their bed. Stilling her hand, she peered into the gloom of the room, at first not being able to distinguish anything from the large shadows the trunks and boxes were casting across the floor from the moonlight streaming in through the curtainless window. Only when she trailed her eyes back to the foot of the bed the second time did she see the faint outline of what seemed to be someone standing there.

After attending a school that was full of spectral beings and living in a house with a ghoul, Ginny couldn't say that she was frightened at the moment, but a shiver ran down her spine as she stared at the vaporous being. A cloud passed over the moon, plunging the room into darkness and the ghostly form disappeared as well. When the silver light faintly returned, the ghostly outline did not and Ginny wondered if perhaps, in her fatigue and anxiety she had imagined it.

Glancing about the room again, she noticed the dark shape of a coat rack that Harry had draped his Aurors robes over earlier and thought more than likely it had caused the shadowy form to appear when the moon had been shining fully through the window.

Harry, missing her ministrations stirred beside her, and Ginny resumed her gentle caresses. He mumbled something that she thought sounded like 'I love you' and Ginny smiled. "I love you, too."

The first time Harry had told her he loved her was right after he had defeated Voldemort. She had known it long before then, but to hear him finally actually say the words had put to rest any niggling doubts that had remained, plaguing her during the long months of their separation. She had longed to say those words to him practically from the moment he had first kissed her, and they had nearly slipped out several times while they were seeing each other during her fifth year. However, somehow she knew he had to be the one to say them first.

"Harry," Ginny whispered.

"Hmmm?" his breath was warm against her skin and sent shivers coursing through her.

"Tell me again when you realized you loved me," she said softly.

"In the forest," Harry answered quietly, sliding his hand across her belly and up her side to caress her back. "What about you?"

"Immediately after our first kiss," Ginny replied.

Harry lifted his head from her chest to peer at her in the dim light. "Really?"

"Really," Ginny said, smiling at the light that entered his green eyes with her response.

"I suppose I felt the same way," Harry softly said, laying his head down on her pillow in order to continue to look at her. "I just didn't know what it was exactly at the time, does that make sense?"

Ginny nodded her head, understanding him completely. "Yes."

"Do you think you'll be happy here?" Harry asked.

"Very," Ginny replied fitting her body to his and resting her head on his shoulder as he rolled over onto his back to accommodate her and wrapped his arm around her. "I imagine I'll have pleasant dreams tonight."

"Good," Harry replied, his voice already slurring back into sleep. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Ginny said again and closed her eyes and finally let sleep take her.


	8. Ch 7 - An Unwelcome Guest

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to my betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny for all of their help. Enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Several days later, Ginny awoke one morning in the super-king size bed she shared with Harry in their new master suite to the sun shining in her eyes and stretched languidly. Reaching over to Harry's side of the bed, she realized it was cold and empty and she remembered he had been called away the previous night for an emergency raid on a warehouse in Camden suspected of housing the illegal hallucinatory potions he'd been searching for. Ginny couldn't understand why any witch or wizard would want to take a potion that deliberately caused hallucinations, but she supposed some were so far gone they couldn't see any other way of living. The current batch of illegal potions on the streets of London had been causing permanent effects on the drinkers and the Auror Office was desperate to find the supplier and stash in order to prevent any more unfortunate souls from winding up spending the remainder of their days in the closed ward at St. Mungo's.

Sighing, Ginny rolled over to check the clock and saw she had about an hour before she would have to leave for practice. Pulling the covers up to her chin she gazed around the room, which was still in a state of disarray as they had not managed to unpack everything yet. Their school trunks and several boxes that contained spring and summer clothes and an assortment of odds and ends that needed to be put away still sat in the corner of the room. Ginny kept putting it off, but made a silent vow to make an attempt to tackle some of the unpacking that night after work.

Neither she nor Harry were very good about caring when such trivial matters were taken care of, assuming it would happen eventually, and Ginny realized once again how much her mother had done for her over the years. The laundry and cooking were two big ones. Ginny had to admit she wasn't the best at performing wifely duties such as those. They were chores, and Harry wasn't any better since he had spent the first ten years of his life having to cook and clean every day, so naturally he was making up for lost time. Ginny certainly was never going to make him do either of those things unless he volunteered.

Usually they would wind up doing the laundry and cooking together, which was much more fun anyway, but sometimes led to neither job getting done. In those instances they wound up eating out or ordering in and then running to the shop the next morning for clean knickers and pants.

Fortunately for them they were magical and Ginny had made it a point to learn some cleaning charms and a very handy pressing charm so at least Harry's Auror uniform was always in pristine condition with perfect creases where they were supposed to be. Ginny had to admit that Harry in his uniform was a pretty impressive sight and she didn't just think that because he was her husband. _Too bad he isn't here_, she thought with another sigh and glanced at the clock. It was time to take a shower and prepare for work. She hoped Harry was all right, but was sure she would have heard otherwise by now if that were not the case.

Ginny had just slipped out of bed and was pulling on her dressing gown when Harry actually appeared in the doorway, looking particularly bedraggled and exhausted, and the exact opposite of how she had been envisioning him a few moments before.

"Harry," Ginny breathed, walking towards him. "I was just thinking of you. Did everything go all right?"

Harry nodded. "The tip from Commissioner Anders was sound. We arrested the wanker and his accomplices and confiscated the remainder of his stash, along with his equipment and supplies. Hopefully, that will be the end of it."

"Did he resist?" Ginny asked, further taking in Harry's appearance. He looked as if he had decided to take a swim through a mud puddle and one sleeve of his robes was ripped.

"They tried, but we all managed to come out of it in one piece, no serious injuries," Harry answered. "A Bludgeoning Hex hit Benchley and broke his arm, which was the worst of it."

"Thank Merlin," Ginny stated. "By the looks of you, you need a shower. Was it raining in Camden?"

"Buckets," Harry replied. "I'm knackered, but I don't suppose you'll let me fall into bed, will you?"

"Not until you wash that mud off, no," Ginny remarked. "I'll make some tea."

"I already had a bowl of cereal before I came upstairs," Harry mumbled, yawning. "I really just want to shower and go to sleep."

"All right," Ginny said and kissed him as she passed. "I'll tuck you in before I leave."

Harry smiled sleepily and headed into the bathroom. Ginny padded down the two flights of stairs and walked down the hallway that led past the stairs to the kitchen. Reaching into her dressing gown pocket, she found a hair tie and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail as she entered the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks.

The kitchen was another room she and Harry had yet to unpack and as of yesterday, most of their dishes and cooking ware were still stacked within a trunk that was sitting off the sunroom. However, all of the dishes were currently stacked in a precariously tall tower in the middle of their kitchen table. Glancing in the sink, she saw Harry's used cereal bowl and spoon and looking over at the trunk, the lid was up and all of the silverware still sat nestled in the tray that was attached to the lid.

Ginny shook her head in frustration. Apparently, Harry wasn't too tired to pull a practical joke. Pulling her wand from the other pocket of her dressing gown she flicked it towards the dishes and cookware and waved it over to the cabinets. Everything flew to jumble into the cabinets, without any rhyme or reason, but Ginny didn't care. She'd let Harry deal with it later since he thought to be so funny.

Grumbling, Ginny went into the pantry to retrieve a bottle of pumpkin juice along with the tea box. Toast sounded appealing, so she grabbed a loaf of bread her mother had brought by and stepped back out of the pantry to set the things on the table. She gasped in shock when she saw the dishes yet again towering in the middle of the table and the pumpkin juice slipped from her grasp as she reached out to steady the dishes.

This was not funny in the slightest, and slamming the tea tin and bread onto the table next to the masterpiece of dishes, she stomped back up the stairs to berate her 'not humorous in the slightest' husband.

She flung the bedroom door open with a bang only to find Harry sprawled on the bed, his wet head barely on his pillow, dead asleep.

"Harry!" she called loudly, stamping her foot for emphasis and he sat bolt upright and stared at her.

"Whatsit?" he asked blearily, fumbling for his glasses and knocking them to the floor.

"What's the big idea with our dishes?" Ginny asked.

"Huh?" Harry asked in confusion, leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve his glasses.

"Did you think it was cute to stack our dishes in the middle of the table?" Ginny questioned.

Harry shook his head. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you are talking about, Gin. I'm tired. Can't I just go back to sleep?"

Ginny studied him in silence for a moment. He honestly didn't look like he had a clue what she was talking about, and usually when he was caught he admitted it immediately. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "Go back to sleep."

Harry flopped back down onto his pillow and Ginny walked over and pulled the duvet over him, kissing him softly on the cheek. "Sweet dreams, love," she whispered and left quickly, pulling the door shut behind her.

Walking back downstairs to the kitchen she had her wand ready to once again send the dishes to their places in the cabinets with the intent of doing it properly this time, only to find the table completely clear of anything, except the tea tin and bread. The broken bottle of pumpkin juice was still on the floor sitting in a puddle of the liquid. Waving her wand, she Vanished the mess and retrieved another bottle from the pantry.

The kitchen trunk lid was now closed and Ginny crept towards it, annoyed with the trickle of fear that ran down her spine. Lifting the lid slowly she peered inside and saw that all the dishes were back in their places, with tissue paper separating each piece as if none of it had been on the table moments ago.

Closing the lid, Ginny turned back around to survey the kitchen, but nothing was amiss. Mrs. Smith hadn't mentioned anything about the house possibly being haunted or having a poltergeist problem, but this was something that reeked of Peeves or a creature of his ilk. If it wasn't a practical joke by Harry, which Ginny now highly doubted because he was definitely out like a light upstairs, then that was the only other explanation she could come up with.

Oh, it was going to be annoying trying to rid the house of a poltergeist. Now she and Harry certainly were going to have to take care of that this weekend. Fixing her tea, she went back upstairs and quickly showered and dressed for work, peeked in on Harry, who was now softly snoring, and went back downstairs to the fireplace in the front sitting room. Grabbing a bit of Floo Powder from the pot on the shelf she flung it into the grate and stepped into the green flames. Just as she called out Harpies Stadium she could have sworn she heard a voice whisper her name from the corner of the sitting room, and as she spun away she thought a shadow was reaching out to her across the floor.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

The dishes and the shadow bothered Ginny all morning, to the point that she deserved the berating Gwenog gave her right before the team broke for lunch on Ginny's less than stellar performance. Ginny knew better than to voice concerns regarding her personal life to Gwenog, as she knew full well how her captain felt about that. Gwenog was of the mindset that you needed to live, breath, eat, and sleep Quidditch and there wasn't room in your life for anything else.

When Ginny had joined the team, newly married and still glowing from her honeymoon, Gwenog had made a point to take Ginny aside and inform her that marriage and Quidditch didn't mix well. That had only fuelled Ginny's fire to prove the cynical woman wrong, and so far she thought she had been extremely successful in doing just that. Ginny was a star Chaser, one of the best in the entire league and Gwenog had soon changed her mind, somewhat, but that didn't mean she'd take kindly to Ginny blaming household issues as the reason she was flying like a rookie today.

Instead, Ginny waited until she was seated with Rachel at a quiet table in the corner of the commissary before telling her friend her suspicions.

"I think I just discovered today that the house has a poltergeist of all things," she said. "I came into the kitchen this morning to find all of our dishes stacked on the table, I put them away, left the room for a minute, and when I returned there they were again, stacked up, neat as you please. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it all morning."

"How awful!" Rachel commiserated. "I was wondering what was wrong with you."

"I know," Ginny said. "I can't believe such a petty thing has affected me so much. It's not like I'm not used to that sort of thing. We had a ghoul living in the attic of The Burrow for years and Peeves, the resident poltergeist at Hogwarts was notorious for stunts just like the one I found in the kitchen today."

"Maybe you're worried about what the poltergeist might do next," Rachel suggested. "Dishes are one thing, to be sure, but what if he decided to start breaking things or worse throwing things at you? You'll never have a moment's peace."

"I know," Ginny agreed with a sigh. "I suppose Harry and I will be spending our weekend taking care of that!"

"We'll probably be stuck here training all weekend," Rachel reminded her, and Ginny thought that her friend more than likely was correct about that presumption. "Gwenog is really in a state over our match against Puddlemere."

"That's because they have a new star Seeker," Ginny remarked. "She should be worried. Harry about wet himself when we attended their first match of the season and saw some of the manoeuvres their Seeker pulled. I have to admit, I was fairly impressed myself."

"I didn't know he was that big a fan," Rachel commented.

"Oh, trust me," Ginny said. "If he hadn't wanted to become an Auror so badly, we very well may have been competing against Harry. He was one of the best Seekers I've ever seen, and still is. He can fly circles around that Puddlemere show-off."

Rachel giggled. "Blimey, do you still have it bad."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, looking over at her friend.

"Whenever you talk about Harry, you have stars in your eyes," Rachel observed and Ginny was irked that a flush rose up her neck to pink her cheeks.

"I do not," she grumbled.

"Yes, you do!" her friend insisted. "It's not a bad thing, Ginny."

"Well, he is the love of my life," Ginny conceded, taking a big gulp of her pumpkin juice.

"You are so lucky," Rachel said dreamily, her eyes glossing over. "I can tell Harry feels the same way. It is so romantic."

This remark caused Ginny to snort her juice through her nose. Coughing, she wiped at her face with her napkin and stared at her friend with wide eyes. "Harry? Romantic?" she roared with laughter, causing the other players to glance their way.

"If I had a man who looked at me the way Harry looks at you, I'd think anything he did was romantic," Rachel petulantly said.

"Well, whenever your prince arrives and sweeps you off your feet and you are happily married, please let me know how you feel about picking up his dirty socks and wet towels off the bathroom floor," Ginny dryly remarked.

"You are so awful!" Rachel laughed. "You know what I mean!"

"I know," Ginny said with a grin. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world, and wouldn't want my life to be any other way than how it is right this very moment. Well, except for the poltergeist. Good thing Harry's an Auror instead of a Quidditch star. He'll be able to take care of that in no time, I am sure."

"And afterwards you can start planning the party!" Rachel added, to which Ginny simply rolled her eyes.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry sat at his desk in his study at Wildebrook flipping through the folder he had brought home containing the documents on the illegal potions dealer. He'd finished his report a few minutes ago and was simply making sure he had noted everything. Alithea sat on her perch next to the desk preening her feathers. Harry reached over and ruffled them gently, causing the owl to emit a soft burst of cooing, and Harry to smile a melancholic smile. Every time he heard that sound, it reminded him of Hedwig and even now he still missed her. She had always given him unconditional love and had been a good companion.

Harry lifted his leather satchel that had been resting next to his desk onto his lap and shoved the report inside before replacing the bag on the floor. Standing up, he stretched and glanced at the clock on the bookshelf behind his desk. It was nearly six, and he was expecting Ginny home soon from work. The clock was the only thing Harry had managed to place on the shelf so far and he supposed he should see to unpacking the rest of his things from the box that sat on the floor next to the shelf.

Opening the flaps he eyed the shrunken books that were jumbled within in with dismay and half-heartedly lifted a few out and returned them to their regular size. Most of his literature consisted of books on Defence Against the Dark Arts, with a few Quidditch books thrown in, as well as a smattering of transfiguration and charms books, and a lone potions book, the spine of which had yet to be cracked. That had been a Christmas present from Hermione the year prior, and had been intended, Harry knew, as a subtle hint that he should improve his potions skills. Harry thought it was better to delegate that work to members of his team who actually had talent in the field.

He placed the books he had pulled out onto the shelf next to the clock. Waving his wand at the rest they flew out of the trunk, grew to their actual size, and settled on the shelf in no particular order. He'd see to sorting them out later.

Glancing in the box again he saw a few framed photos were left wrapped in tissue in a corner and several Dark Detectors, including the Sneakoscope Ron had sent him for his thirteenth birthday. Another flick of his wand had the photographs lifting out with the paper covering them falling silently back down into the box as they grew. There was one from his and Ginny's wedding, a photo of him, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione at their wedding, one of Sirius, another of the entire Weasley clan, and then his parents wedding photo. These he took better care to place while the detectors arranged themselves on another shelf.

When Harry was satisfied with his handiwork, he took one final look in the box. All that remained inside was the square, battered wooden box he despised so much, shrunk to the size of thimble. Making a face of disgust Harry physically lifted the box out of the trunk, with his thumb and forefinger, enlarged it, and pulling open a bottom drawer of his desk, tossed the box unceremoniously in, shutting the drawer without any further thought to what the box held. He'd already revisited those memories when he packed it up, and he had no desire to do so again.

Pleased that he had at least unloaded the trunk, he picked it up and headed through the front sitting room to the stairs.

"I'll be back in a bit, Alithea," he called unnecessarily to the owl, who was now dozing on her perch.

In the master bedroom Harry headed into the walk-in closet where the pull-down ladder leading to the attic was located. Grabbing the rope, he pulled the door open, stepping out of the way of the ladder as it extended, and pushed the trunk up through opening. Climbing the ladder, he poked his head into the attic and levitated the trunk to rest under one of the roof gables. The attic was relatively empty of any other trunks or boxes and he sighed, realizing this meant they still had a lot of work to do. He began to climb back down the ladder when a scuffling in the far corner of the attic to his left caught his attention.

"_Lumos_," Harry muttered, holding his wand aloft and pointing it towards the left of the dark space. Long shadows loomed past the bright circle of light his wand cast, but he couldn't see anything in the corner except the rafters of the roof and the point where the eaves met, causing even deeper darkness. Nothing looked out of place, so extinguishing the light, Harry climbed back down the ladder. As he reached the bottom, he heard a loud crash from downstairs, and bolted out of the closet to investigate the cause.

"Ginny?" Harry called as he rushed down the stairs, but his wife didn't answer. He looked in the front rooms, but both were dark and empty, and nothing seemed amiss. Walking down the hall into the kitchen, everything seemed in order there and the sunroom was devoid of anything except the trunk that housed their kitchenware.

At first glance, everything seemed to be as he had left it in his study with the exception of Alithea, who was staring down at the floor behind his desk and emitting a forlorn trill that sent shivers down Harry's spine. Stepping around his desk he saw instantly what was troubling the owl. The desk drawer that Harry had placed the wooden box in had been wrenched completely out and lay on its side. The box had tumbled onto the rug, spilling his medals and awards across the floor.

Kneeling down, Harry collected them all and placed them back into the box, except his Order of Merlin, which was nowhere in sight. Placing his hands on the floor beside his knees, he peered beneath his desk, but it was devoid of anything, as was the niche the drawer slid into. Harry pulled out each and every drawer in his desk and rifled through them, but came up empty-handed.

"_Accio_ Order of Merlin," Harry muttered, flicking his wand, but nothing flew towards him.

He blew his breath out in frustration as he set the box back in the drawer and replaced the drawer to its proper place. It wasn't so much that he was upset over the loss of the medal, as he had despised it since the day he'd received it, but he had been quite certain it had been in the box when he packed it for the move to the house. Not to mention, that he couldn't think of an explanation as to how the desk drawer had wound up on the floor in the first place.

"What happened, Alithea?" Harry asked, gazing up at his familiar. Alithea returned his look with her liquid amber eyes and continued to hoot mournfully, but Harry couldn't understand the meaning, aside from knowing that whatever had happened had greatly disturbed the owl.

Harry supposed the medal could still be in the bottom of the box he had placed in the attic. Standing back up, he headed back down the hall towards the stairs and was halfway up the first flight when the whoosh from the fireplace announced Ginny's arrival home.

"I'm home, Harry," she called as she walked out of the sitting room into the foyer and saw him on the stairs. She met him on the first landing and kissed him warmly before wrapping her arms around his waist. "How was your day? Did you catch up on some sleep?"

Harry nodded. "Nice and dreamless, the way I like it," he said. "And I managed to get some work done and unpack a bit. Speaking of which, I can't find my Order of Merlin. Do you happen to have any idea where it might be?"

"No," Ginny said, her brow furrowing. "I thought it was in your box where you kept all the other awards you hate so much. It's not?"

"Erm, that's a funny thing as well," Harry replied. "I unpacked the trunk in my study, placed the wooden box with the awards in my desk and took the trunk up to the attic. While I was up there, I heard a crash down here and at first thought it was you. Of course, it wasn't, and when I went back into my study, the drawer was on the floor and my medals and such spilled all over, and the Order of Merlin missing. I was just going back up to the attic to check to make sure it hadn't fallen out into the bottom of the trunk."

Ginny bit her lip in thought. "Harry, do you remember when I woke you up this morning?"

Harry was puzzled by the seemingly change in conversation. "Vaguely. Something about not unpacking the dishes?"

"No," Ginny said. "Unpacking them. When I entered the kitchen this morning, all of our dishes were piled in the middle of the table. I thought you had done it, and I put them away before going into the pantry to grab some things. When I returned they were right back where I had found them. I ran upstairs to accuse you of pranking me, but you were out cold. When I came back down, the dishes were back in the trunk."

"That sounds like a stunt George would pull," Harry stated. "Or Peeves." He groaned loudly as soon as he said it. "Oh, please don't tell me we have a poltergeist."

Ginny smiled weakly. "I can't think of a better explanation."

"If that's the case, who knows what it did with my medal," Harry griped. "I suppose it will turn up eventually, not that I really care. I do care about the poltergeist though. I hadn't planned on spending my weekend exterminating the house, but I'd rather not worry about having our good dishes dropped on my head."

"Sorry, love," Ginny said. "I have more bad news, too. Gwenog is calling a practice on Saturday."

"That is bad news," Harry agreed and then brightened. "Well, maybe I can invite Ron and Hermione over to help with the poltergeist problem."

"That's a great idea!" Ginny said. "I hate to think of you all alone in this big old house."

"I think I'd be all right alone for a few hours, Ginny," Harry said.

"I was more worried about the house than you, love," Ginny retorted.

"Is that so?" Harry asked, hefting Ginny abruptly over his shoulder, and causing her to squeal.

"Put me down!" she cried, lightly beating his back with her small fists.

"I will," Harry casually remarked and carried her up the two flights of stairs and into their room as she giggled madly. He tossed her into the middle of the bed, jumped on after her and started to tickle her while she made half-hearted attempts to bat his hands away between bouts of laughter. Eventually she gave up entirely and instead grabbed his head, pulling his face towards hers and kissed him soundly, sending any further thoughts of tickling or the poltergeist out of his mind.


	9. Ch8 -Misgivings and Preposterous Notions

**Author's Notes: **Not too much to say except the usual shout out to my fantastic betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny. Many thanks to those of you have read and commented. I really appreciate any and all comments good or bad. Also, I apologize for how the chapter title looks. has a character limit for titles and this one was too long. Enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

"Do the sweep again, Hermione," Harry said to his best friend as they stood in the foyer of Wildebrook on Saturday. "The dishes and the drawer couldn't have moved themselves."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, I've already done it twice. There isn't any sign of a poltergeist."

"What about a ghost?" Harry asked.

"It would have told me either way," Hermione explained. "And you, of all people, should know that."

"Yeah, but you're the expert, Hermione," Ron said, walking down the hallway from the kitchen eating an apple.

"Ron, we just had breakfast," Hermione said in exasperation, eyeing her husband with undisguised annoyance. "You didn't even ask Harry if you could have that!"

"Why should I?" Ron asked. "He's my best mate. What's his is mine and all of that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You aren't married to him, Ron. You should have asked!"

"I honestly don't mind, Ron," Harry said and turned back to Hermione. "Would you please just cast the spell one more time?"

Sighing, Hermione cast the spectral reveal spell once more and again the coloured wave that came back was white. "Harry, you know it would be green if there was any evidence whatsoever of paranormal activity."

"Maybe the ghost went out for a walk," Ron suggested.

"Maybe it just doesn't exist," Harry said, furrowing his brow. "It doesn't make sense though. How else can we explain the dishes and the drawer? We didn't imagine those things, and even Alithea saw something that disturbed her."

"Well, all I am telling you is there isn't anything here now," Hermione stated. "Maybe it was a passing phenomenon or a spectral being travelling to visit a friend."

"How often does that occur, Hermione?" Harry asked in annoyance.

"More often than you think," Hermione answered. "I suggest you and Ginny just wait and see if anything else out of the ordinary occurs and as soon as it does, run the test yourself. Now that I've shown you, you should be able to cast it without any difficulty."

Harry nodded. "I suppose you are right," he said with a sigh. "I was hoping to take care of this today so as not to have to worry about it later."

"Chances are it isn't going to happen again," Ron stated, glancing around the foyer and up at the dusty chandelier. "Do you and Ginny ever clean, Harry?"

Harry looked up at the chandelier as well. "Well, it's not at the top of our list of priorities, no, but you do have a point. I suppose we forgot about that. If I can't de-poltergeist the house today, do you two think you could help me clean up a bit? Gin and I have been so busy lately."

"You mean lazy," Ron corrected, pulling out his wand and pointing it at the offending cobwebs on the chandelier. "However, my wife happens to be utterly amazing at spells in general and has taught me a thing or two." He waved his wand at the light fixture and the cobwebs flew off, only to land in his and Harry's hair. "Apparently, that particular spell needs a bit of work," he uttered apologetically as he and Harry attempted to shake the sticky cobwebs from their hair.

"You are utterly hopeless," Hermione grumbled as she waved her wand and vanished the cobwebs on the two men as well as any remaining on the chandelier.

Harry grinned. "This is just like old times."

"Yeah, except now I can do this!" Ron crowed as he pulled Hermione to him and kissed her.

Harry screwed his face up in disgust. "Do you mind?"

"No, we don't," Ron muttered, holding Hermione tightly as she squirmed weakly in his embrace.

"Ron," she giggled, clearly not trying very hard to escape. "Let me go."

"Never!" Ron declared and kissed her again.

"We have a spare room on the first floor if you two need it!" Harry exclaimed, effectively breaking them apart.

"Sorry, Harry," Hermione said, her face reddening. "Newlyweds and all."

"You've been married over a year," Harry groused, good-naturedly.

"It seems like only yesterday," Ron sighed.

Harry shook his head and headed down the hall towards the kitchen and his two oldest friends followed. He opened several cupboard doors before he found the one containing the glasses. Ginny had finally unpacked the kitchen trunk properly the day after the incident with the dishes and so far there had been no reoccurrences. As a matter of fact, since the episode with his desk drawer, the house had been like any other, with the exception that Harry had been unable to find his medal anywhere.

"Do you two need a drink?" he asked, pulling out three glasses.

"I do!" Ron answered immediately. "Do you have pumpkin juice?"

Harry nodded and headed into the pantry as Hermione called after him. "Harry, Ron told me about Draco Malfoy. Have you heard anything more from him?"

Harry returned with the bottle of juice and placed it on the counter. "He sent me a note last week, but other than that, no. I followed up with the guards and they informed me that he hasn't had any other incidents."

"What did the note say?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged. "He was trying to goad me, I'm sure. He asked me what I knew about ghosts."

"It does seem rather odd, doesn't it?" Hermione asked. "He sends you a note and you have suddenly experienced some strange occurrences."

"Do you think Malfoy could be behind them somehow?" Ron queried.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. How would he orchestrate that? It's not like he has any friends left."

"That's because he's a tosser," Ron said, helping himself to the juice.

"Ron!" Hermione said in shock.

"Well, he is," Ron stated. "Who wants to talk about Malfoy anyway? I want to see where you and Ginny plan on putting the Quidditch pitch, Harry."

Harry grinned, as this was a much preferable way to spend the afternoon than discussing Draco Malfoy and ghosts. Since Harry's confrontation with Draco, he had tried to put it from his mind with some success. The dreams hadn't plagued him since that weekend and he hoped he had seen the last of them. He and Ginny had been so busy with their respective professions, he had been too tired to even dream and thankfully had fallen into deep and dreamless sleeps most of the time. After years of nightmares, that was always the best kind of sleep he could ever wish for.

"That sounds like a much better way to spend the day," Harry said and motioned for Ron to follow him.

"I thought we were supposed to be cleaning up the house," Hermione reminded them as they headed out the sunroom door.

"We'll do that later," Ron called over his shoulder.

"That's why it hasn't been done in the first place!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ignoring Hermione's comment, Harry grabbed the Firebolt Ginny had given him for Christmas the first year they were married and led Ron and Hermione down the garden path, past the walled garden to the broad expanse of lawn about sixty meters wide that butted up against a low stone wall that ran the length of the lawn before following the property line up past the house. Over the wall was the wild moor that stretched to the horizon.

"I feel like we are out in the middle of nowhere," Hermione commented as she nimbly sat on the stone wall.

"We are," Harry replied. "That's the point, Hermione."

"I'm glad to see you and Ginny finally settling down, Harry," Hermione said, causing her husband to snort with laughter.

"What do you call marrying straight out of Hogwarts then?" Ron incredulously asked. "If that's not settling down, I don't know what is."

"You know what I mean, Ron," Hermione chided and Harry sighed, not wanting to be in the middle of one of their arguments, especially if it was going to involve a dissection of his and Ginny's relationship.

"I'd really prefer it if the two of you would kindly not discuss my relationship in front of me as if I weren't here," Harry interrupted before they became too wound up. "Ginny and I are and always have been 'settled', as you put it, Hermione."

Hermione looked well put in her place and contritely said, "I know that, Harry. I'm sorry. With all those awful articles the papers print about you two, sometimes even I begin to wonder when I know I shouldn't."

"No, you shouldn't, Hermione," Harry retorted before his face fell. "Ginny is really torn up over those articles, and hearing our friends joke about it or even remotely believe them doesn't help. It's part of the reason we moved out here."

"Don't they bother you, too?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "Only when they disparage Gin. I became used to people saying and printing awful things about me a long time ago. There are more important things for me to worry about." He allowed the Firebolt to hover by him and swung his leg over it. "I'm going to check the wards, Ron, and then you can go for a fly." He smiled slightly seeing the excitement flare in his friend's eyes to have a chance to fly a broom again. Harry agreed it had been too long. As he kicked off and headed towards where the wards were erected Ron's annoyed voice floated upwards.

"That was just brilliant, Hermione!" Ron berated. "Thanks for upsetting Harry on the one day we have to just hang out like old times."

"Ron, I'm sorry! I wasn't…" Hermione's reply faded as the wind from the moor blissfully filled Harry's ears. He didn't want to fight with his friends, but sometimes Hermione still thought of herself as his surrogate mother. He already had one of those, and Molly was more than enough.

Usually the articles in the paper didn't trouble him, but Ron's comments over the last one had made Harry stop and think a moment. Maybe he wasn't bothered by what other people thought of him, but at the same time he knew from experience that what was printed in the papers and magazines very easily influenced the way people thought of him. Even his mother-in-law still succumbed from time to time to the written word, although by now she truly should know better. Not to mention that Ron was right, it didn't look good to have been caught off guard by a tiny Quidditch player, even if it was all in fun, and the papers hadn't seen that part. The result was the same, no matter that he and Ginny had simply been letting off steam and attempting to live their lives normally and have a nice time with friends, they were made to look foolish.

Shaking the depressing thoughts out of his head, Harry leaned over the broom and flew fifteen meters above the stone wall, shooting down to a stand of trees that marked the edge of the property line. Pulling his wand out he cast the ward detection spell and was satisfied that the wards had been properly erected. The Muggle-Repelling Charm he had set in place for the rare occasions that there may be a Muggle hiking across the moor was secure, as well. Anyone who came within twenty meters would merely see Wildebrook as it had stood for years, lonely and abandoned, as well as immediately think they needed to hurry on their way past the premises. No fear of Muggle spies, and the wards would also be effective on any witch or wizard outside his and Ginny's immediate circle of family and friends who decided to try to track the Potters down.

Circling over the garden, Harry aimed the broom towards the sky and rocketed upwards, enjoying the feel of the cold wind biting at his nose and cheeks and chasing the remaining unsettling musings away. He had forgotten how the exhilaration of flying made everything literally and figuratively infinitesimal and that all that mattered at the moment was how hard and fast he could push the broom and search for the tiny fluttering golden ball. Looking back down at the ground to where he had left Ron and Hermione all he could make out was their arms madly waving at each other. He winced, hoping they weren't still arguing over him. He still wasn't quite sure how their relationship worked, but obviously it did. He certainly would not want to spend his time with Ginny yelling at her, and was very glad that they were much more companionable than that.

Harry levelled the broom out at about thirty meters in the air and slowed down to hover in the air. He wished Ginny was here now and wondered what she might be doing at this very moment. It was early yet, so more than likely Gwenog still had the team running drills. Sometimes he wondered how different his life might be if he had decided to pursue Quidditch instead of becoming an Auror. Not much would change really, he supposed, other than where he went to work in the morning, and the fact that he would have to play against Ginny. That would more than likely have proven to be distracting, to say the least, and probably not work out so well for him and his team. Not to mention that he would constantly be wondering if he could be doing a better job than the Aurors that were tracking down thieves, potions dealers, and dark wizards. So, while he did miss playing Quidditch, Harry was certain he had made the right choice.

He glanced back over to Ron and Hermione and saw that they had stopped arguing and were currently clutched in a close embrace. He shook his head, and decided that perhaps a fly-by was definitely in order. Turning the broom, he was zooming towards them when a flash caught his eye. Immediately pulling up, Harry swiveled around in a circle trying to determine where the bright light had come from. He scanned the roof of the house and the grounds behind it, mentally checking off each area as he made a visual sweep. He was looking over the walled garden when he saw the flash again from within it and he quickly aimed the broom for it.

Flying over the wall, Harry landed by a tall oak tree that stood in the middle of the garden and where he had thought the flare of light had come from. Dismounting from the broom, he left it on the ground and walked slowly towards the tree. It had a few low-slung branches sturdy enough to sit upon and would be a great tree to climb. As he approached, his eyes alighted on something swinging from one of the upper branches, about five meters up, and Harry deduced this was what had caught the sun's light and reflected it.

Squinting, Harry tried to gain a better look, but the tree branches and leaves obscured his vision, and it looked to be hanging too closely to the trunk of the tree to reach by broom. Harry realized he was actually going to have to climb up the tree and retrieve the item in order to satisfy his curiosity. He had become quite adept at climbing trees in his youth when he had been attempting to escape Dudley and his gang and he quickly scaled the tree to the branch that contained the object. As it were, he nearly lost his footing when he saw what was dangling from the branch. Wrapped securely around the slender branch was a very familiar looking red ribbon, and swaying in the slight breeze was his Order of Merlin.

Holding onto the branch with one hand to steady himself Harry reached for his wand and severing the ribbon, levitated the medal towards him. It hovered in the air before him, turning slowly in the field containing it, and Harry stared at it in fascination. He had no idea how it could possibly have become entangled in the tree's branches without the aid of someone or something.

Harry was reaching for it when the telltale cracking of the branch he was standing on reached his ears. Quickly, Harry grabbed onto the branch the medal had been strung from just as the branch below broke free from the tree and fell to the ground below him. Jarred out of the levitation field, the golden medal fell as well, glancing off Harry's shoulder, causing him to wince in pain. His fingers slipped and the branch bent under his weight, and he knew he didn't have long before it broke as well.

Letting go with his wand hand, Harry shakily aimed it behind him and uttered 'A_ccio Firebolt_' just as the branch broke. The scream of the broom came to him, but Harry was falling too fast to be able to break free of the ground in time with the broom. Branches slapped past him, scratching his hands and face as he quickly cast a hasty cushioning charm below him, but all the same the landing knocked the wind out of him as he bounced off the charmed air and onto the ground. The Firebolt hovered above him and Harry lay still for a moment catching his breath, cursing his stupidity for thinking the branches of the tree were strong enough to hold his weight.

Assessing the damage, he was glad that his cushioning charm had worked well enough to prevent him from breaking anything and the only injuries he had sustained were some bruises and a few cuts on his hands and face. Reaching for the medal next to him, Harry sat up slowly to examine it closer. Its surface was marred by what looked like deliberate scratch marks crossing out his name and the date of Voldemort's death and a cold shiver ran down his spine.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When Ginny arrived home that afternoon, she was surprised to find Harry sitting on the couch in his study with Hermione while her brother sat at his desk, with of all things, Harry's wooden box of medals. Taking a closer look at her husband she saw that he looked unusually pale and had several scratches on his hands and face.

"What in Merlin's name happened for the few hours I leave you alone?" Ginny asked, entering the room and taking a seat on Harry's other side.

"I had a slight run-in with the oak tree in the walled garden," Harry answered.

"Did you crash your broom?" Ginny asked, knowing it had been some time since Harry had been able to fly, but not thinking he could possibly be that rusty.

"No, I fell out of it," Harry replied.

"Aren't you a little old to be climbing trees, Harry?" Ginny remarked, reaching over to brush his fringe back and spying a faint bruise at his temple. "You're lucky you weren't seriously hurt."

Harry nodded his agreement before picking up something in his lap and handing it to her. "I found my medal, though. It was hanging from a branch in the tree."

Ginny took the medal and held it up towards the lamp by the couch to study it closer. Its formerly polished golden surface looked to have been scrubbed with a wire brush and all of the engravings were illegible. "It's ruined," she exclaimed. "How could this have happened?"

"We think perhaps Alithea may have picked it up and carried it outside," Hermione speculated, but Ginny sensed her friend's doubt in the statement.

"Why would Alithea do that?" Ginny asked. "That's certainly not like her to randomly pick up things around the house and fly off with them."

"True," Harry agreed. "Perhaps the light reflecting off the surface caught her eye. I don't know."

"What about the poltergeist?" Ginny queried. "Were you able to take care of that?"

Harry shook his head. "We performed the sweep several times, Gin, and there's nothing here."

Ginny blew her breath out in frustration. "Well, that's disappointing news."

"I've been thinking some more today, and I thought perhaps it may have been a case of accidental magic," Hermione suggested.

Both Harry and Ginny looked over at Hermione, and Harry voiced what Ginny was thinking. "Seriously, Hermione? And who are suggesting did that? Ginny and myself?"

Hermione looked slightly ruffled but continued to press her point. "Well, sometimes our magic manifests itself in strange ways when we least expect it."

"Hermione," Ginny said, more than slightly offended at what Hermione was implying. "Harry and I aren't under-aged, just learning how to control our magic!"

"I didn't say that," Hermione defended. "But, there have been previous case studies that have shown witches and wizards under incredible amounts of stress can have uncontrolled magical output without even realizing it."

"Unbelievable," Ginny spat, her hackles rising. "So, you are trying to tell us that I inadvertently caused the dishes to stack themselves, and Harry somehow yanked the drawer completely out of the desk, took the medal and wrapped it around a tree branch over fifty metres from the house while tending to other tasks without either of us even realizing it?"

"You asked for my help and opinion," Hermione reminded Ginny. "I am simply trying to offer you some plausible possibilities."

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, sounding calmer than Ginny knew he could possibly be feeling. "We truly appreciate all your help today, and like you said earlier, we can always investigate this further if we experience any more incidents."

"Exactly," Ron interjected, giving his sister a stern look. "There's no reason to become cheesed off."

"I'm sure Ginny is tired from practice," Harry remarked, which annoyed Ginny further since she did not need him making excuses for her irritability.

"Harry, I don't need you defending my attitude to Hermione and Ron!" Ginny admonished him.

"All right," Harry sighed. "I'm tired then. It's been a long week, a disappointingly unproductive day, and I fell out of a bloody tree, which is embarrassing enough, without the idea thrust upon me that I am not in full control of my magic."

"That's not what I said," Hermione started, but Harry interrupted her. "I know you are just trying to help, Hermione. I think we should call it a day and hopefully Ginny and I won't have any more occurrences, whatever the cause."

Hermione looked extremely disappointed and put out at Harry's sudden dismissal, but she said nothing as she rose and Ron moved around the desk to join her. Harry stood as well and Ginny followed, surprised at the amount of tension in the room.

"Thanks for coming over today," Harry said. "I do really appreciate it."

Hermione nodded. "Just let us know if anything else happens, all right?"

"We will," Harry assured her and followed after them as Ron led Hermione into the front sitting room. Ginny trailed behind, wondering what else had happened today to have Harry in such a terrible mood and Hermione treating them like children.

"Thanks for the fly, mate," Ron said cheerfully. "Let's do it again sometime soon, maybe play a bit of one-on-one."

Harry grinned. "That'd be great, Ron. See you Monday."

The four of them stood there for a moment staring at one another before Ron nodded his head in good-bye once more and tossed some Floo powder in the grate, and stepped in, calling for his and Hermione's flat. Hermione hesitated a moment before hugging Ginny and then Harry, apologizing profusely for upsetting them. Then she hurriedly stepped into the grate and spun away leaving Harry and Ginny alone. Ginny turned on Harry immediately.

"Again, I am going to ask you, 'What in Merlin's name happened today?'" Ginny asked. "I come home and find the three of you sitting around looking absolutely depressing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. The day started out all right, but then they began arguing over us, of all things, in front of me, and I told Hermione I'd appreciate it if she didn't make assumptions about our personal life. Then I fell out of the tree and she admonished me for being careless. Sometimes I feel like Hermione still thinks she is responsible to take care of me, or, I don't know."

"Oh, I do know and you are absolutely right," Ginny said. "She does think that. It's what she's good at, I suppose, in a way. I think it's really hard for Hermione to realize that you don't need her in that capacity anymore."

Harry headed back to his study and sat on the couch, gazing at his ruined medal lying on his desk.

"What do you think about Hermione's accidental magic theory?" Harry inquired, tearing his eyes away from the medal to look at Ginny.

The idea was absolutely ridiculous to Ginny and she made a face of disgust. "That it's preposterous. You're an Auror for heaven's sake! How can she even feasibly entertain that notion, Harry? And worse, what if word of it spread? Your reputation as an Auror would be tarnished; no one would take you seriously if you supposedly suffered from outbursts of accidental magic. They'd start comparing you to Moody, claiming you were just as unstable as he was."

"There could be worse things said about me," Harry commented.

"Harry, we both know Moody was a fantastic Auror," Ginny stated. "But he was nearing the end of his career and could afford to have silly articles written about him. You are just starting out, and you and I both know if rumours began spreading about your sanity, there would be no hope of you ever being promoted."

Harry sighed. "You're right, I know. Hermione would never speak of this to anyone, but I think the point is moot. If it were a case of accidental magic, you would think I would have had episodes four or five years ago, not now."

"Exactly," Ginny assured. "So we are back to square one. I suppose, for now, we will have to assume it was Alithea. Maybe that's why she was so upset. She knew she had done something she shouldn't have, but couldn't tell you."

"We'll keep an eye on her," Harry suggested. "Perhaps she is unsettled by the move."

Ginny nodded, but remained silent, instead taking Harry's hand and leaning against him. He waved his wand towards the wireless that sat on a shelf behind his desk and its mother-of-pearl dial cast a soft glow on the wall as a soothing, instrumental piece softly filtered out of the speaker.

"I'm glad you weren't badly hurt when you fell," Ginny murmured.

"Me too," Harry agreed, rubbing the back of her hand reassuringly with his thumb. "That would have been difficult to explain to the admissions desk at St. Mungo's. Talk about bad press."

Ginny giggled. "Let's talk about lighter things. Rachel isn't letting up about the party. I think she misses you, Harry."

"Really?" Harry asked, perking up.

"Don't act so excited," Ginny remarked. "I made certain to point out some of your flaws."

"I don't have any flaws," Harry stated, eliciting a snort from Ginny. "What are they, then?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'm not telling. I'd rather keep you guessing. So, now that your case is closed and apparently we don't have a poltergeist, what do you think about having a small get-together next Friday? I'd love for our friends to see our new place."

"Sure," Harry replied amicably. "Sounds like fun. So, what are you planning for supper tonight?" Harry asked standing and offering her his hand. When Ginny slipped her smaller hand in his, he closed his fingers around it and pulled her off the couch and headed towards the kitchen.

"If you think I am making you supper after working all day, you are sadly mistaken," Ginny said, following him anyway.

As they walked down the passage, Alithea swooped through heading towards her perch. Harry and Ginny ducked, laughing as her wings brushed their heads. Alithea landed lightly onto her perch and was settling in when the soft music filtering out of the wireless faltered and a low hissing replaced the soothing sounds. The owl raised her head and stared at the doorway leading to the front sitting room, and began to coo a mournful tune, her amber eyes never wavering from the shadowy outline only she was able to see.


	10. Ch 9 - Death Comes Calling

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to my fantastic betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny. I hope you all enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Hermione had sent both Harry and Ginny a note apologizing again for offending them and literally begging Ginny to meet her for lunch the following Monday if her schedule permitted. Ginny had to wonder why their friend wanted to meet with only her since she had hurt Harry's feelings as well, but Harry had said that more than likely Hermione planned on cornering him when he arrived at work, but she didn't have that luxury with Ginny.

"Fine, but we will be comparing notes later," Ginny said as he left for work Monday morning. "Now go so I can finish getting ready."

"Wish I could stay," Harry pouted. "It must be nice to be able to lounge around most mornings."

"You should have become a professional Quidditch player then," Ginny retorted. "I had practice all weekend, so I think I deserve a day off."

"Good point," Harry replied, giving her a quick kiss. "All right, well, have a nice day."

"Don't forget I am meeting Mum later this afternoon, and we are shopping for furniture," Ginny reminded him. "Are you going to try to leave early so you can have some say? Otherwise you can't complain with what we choose for the dining room and sitting room."

"Why would I complain?" Harry asked.

Ginny stared at him with a look of disbelief. "Do you remember the time you were too 'busy' to pick out the bedding for our bedroom when we moved into the flat?"

"I was busy then," Harry answered. "As a rookie Auror, Williamson saddled me with all the cases in Timbuktu!"

"That is an exaggeration," Ginny countered. "Mulhouse, France is hardly Timbuktu, Harry."

"I was stuck in Mulhouse helping French Aurors with Fergus Belch and a town full of Muggles burping "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and came home after an exhausting day of casting a million Obliviation charms to a," Harry made a face of disgust before continuing. "A pink bedroom. You know how I feel about pink."

"I do, that's true, but I also know that after you were finished with the Muggles, which did not take all day as you say, you popped into the auto museum there," Ginny replied. "Plus, the pink was only temporary, as you recall. You can't deny it was a funny prank, Harry, and the fact that you actually tried to pretend you liked it!" She giggled at the memory.

"It wasn't funny," Harry complained.

"It was to me," Ginny chirped. "So, will you be joining Mum and me today?"

"Yes," Harry answered.

"That's all I needed to hear," Ginny said with a smile and gently pushed him into the fireplace. "I'll see you later, love."

Turning away from the grate as soon as Harry disappeared, Ginny rushed back upstairs to fix her hair and to dress. She had planned on spending the morning shopping for spare linens for the three guest bedrooms and curtains for the sitting and dining rooms. The lunch with Hermione was unexpected, but Ginny imagined she could probably still accomplish a few of her errands before lunch. She definitely intended to make the most of her day off and wasted little time arriving at the Leaky Cauldron and exiting out onto Charing Cross Road.

The street was bustling with shoppers enjoying the bright, sunny October day and Ginny mingled amongst them, heading towards a little shop she knew was just around the corner that sold a variety of household items, including bed linens. She was passing a quaint used bookshop when she spied Andromeda Tonks, of all people, through the shop window. The older witch saw her as well and smiled, waving warmly. A bell above the door tinkled as Ginny pushed the door open and she headed over to Teddy's grandmother.

"Hello, Andromeda!" Ginny said when she reached Andromeda's side. "What a surprise running into you!"

"Hello, Ginny," Andromeda replied and gave her a quick hug. Andromeda was not one to show much affection, but after so many years of living with Ted Tonks, who had been known for his genial and overly warm personality, she had softened a great deal.

"Where's Teddy today?" Ginny asked, noticing that Harry's godson was nowhere in evidence.

"Oh, he started a Reception class at the local primary school in September," Andromeda answered with a worried look. "It's only three days a week, but I still feel so strange taking him there, even though it's the same school Nymphadora attended."

"Harry did mention that to me," Ginny said. "How does he like it?"

"He loves it," Andromeda said with a smile. "I suppose I am simply worrying too much."

"We miss him and you," Ginny remarked. "It's been too long."

"It has," Andromeda agreed as she took the bag with her purchases from the clerk behind the counter. "Thank you," she said to him before turning back to Ginny. "I was shopping for a gift for Ted's sister, Anne. She hasn't been feeling well, and I was hoping to visit her soon. It's fortunate I ran into you, actually. I was wondering if you and Harry would be able to watch Teddy this Saturday and Sunday? He's been asking to see the two of you."

"Of course," Ginny said. "We'd love to have him over to Wildebrook. I was just on my way to buy some linens for the room we are fixing up for Teddy."

"Wonderful," Andromeda remarked. "It's not too short notice?"

"Not at all," Ginny assured. "We're always here to help, Andromeda."

"Thank you, Ginny," Andromeda said as they exited the shop. She glanced down at her dainty gold wristwatch and back up at Ginny. "I'm afraid I must run. Teddy's class is only in the mornings and I don't want to be late picking him up. I'm so glad I saw you today."

"I know Harry will be thrilled," Ginny responded, giving Andromeda another hug.

Andromeda smiled her agreement with that statement and headed back up the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny continued on towards her destination and stood in front of the shelves containing the linens for children, perusing the selection. Teddy was now four and a half and already proclaiming what a big boy he was. The last time Ginny had seen him he had taken offence to anyone who dared refer to him as their darling little boy or anything similar. With that in mind, she could definitely rule out the sheets with blue teddy bears and ABC blocks printed on them and most of the remaining selection was either pink, or yellow with pink teddy bears with bows, or the like.

Ginny was becoming increasingly aware the more she shopped for toys, clothes, or anything for that matter for Teddy and Victoire, the selection for boys was always abysmal, while there were rows and racks galore of toys and clothes for girls. She finally chose a cute enough set that was dark blue with brightly coloured cars and trucks on them with the intent of charming the sheets so the vehicles would zoom over the fabric. She was certain Teddy would love them and that was all that mattered in the end. Also, Harry would like them. She was sure they would pass muster, especially since there wasn't an ounce of pink to be seen anywhere.

The remainder of the day went just as smoothly, even the lunch with Hermione. She had nearly fallen over herself in apologizing to Ginny, and Ginny had been sorely tempted to keep her friend in suspense over whether or not she would forgive her. However, Hermione's pleading brown eyes won out and Ginny let her off the hook relatively easily. They spent the rest of the lunch discussing anything but what had occurred the previous evening. Much to Ginny's surprise, Hermione was excited to hear about the party Ginny was planning for the coming Friday and offered her assistance in setting up. Ginny knew this was more than likely another attempt at an apology. However, Ginny had already enlisted the help of Hannah Abbott and George, so she declined Hermione's offer, telling her friend she and Ron should just arrive around seven.

After lunch, she met Harry and her mother at a nearby furniture shop and began the arduous process of selecting pieces for the sitting and dining rooms. Of course, her mother had her own ideas on what she thought they should select, and naturally, Ginny's and Harry's tastes did not match her mother's in the slightest. They did listen to her advice when choosing the dining room furniture and purchased a sideboard and hutch, even though at the moment they didn't have much of anything to store in it. Her mother assured them that one day they would and they would be happy to have a nice place to display their dishes.

As for the sitting room, they chose an eclectic mix of modern and old with a large and sleek dark brown leather couch with a matching ottoman that was large enough to serve both as a coffee table and foot rest and two heavy antique octagonal oak end tables that contained a cabinet door in case they had anything to store within.

Harry was also extremely pleased with Ginny's purchase for Teddy's room and excited to hear that he would be visiting.

All in all, it turned out to be a very productive and fun-filled day and Ginny happily collapsed with Harry on their new couch after they had arranged the new furniture to their satisfaction. She was just settling in next to him and about to ask whether or not Hermione had indeed accosted him when he arrived at work that morning when she felt the now annoyingly familiar vibration from Harry's right breast robe pocket that could only mean one thing, a call from work. She sighed her annoyance as he reached for the two-way mirror. However, when he pulled it out, her annoyance turned to surprise when she saw Kingsley Shacklebolt's harried-looking face peering out of the mirror.

"Harry," Kingsley said without preamble. "There's been an incident out at Azkaban. Lucius Malfoy is dead."

**hghhghg ghghghgh**

Draco sat on his bunk in the corner against the wall, with his knees drawn up to his chest, and stared unblinkingly at the heap of black robes that contained the body of his guard, Van Hyning, that lay just outside his opened cell door. Moments earlier Draco had seen his life flash before his eyes as Van Hyning stormed towards his cell, unlocked the door with a swish of his wand, and then aimed the wand straight at Draco's heart. The first syllable of the dreaded Killing Curse had left Van Hyning's mouth before he was Stunned from behind by one of his fellow guards.

That guard was standing with Head Auror Robards and Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt explaining once again in a bemused and sorrowful tone that he had only stunned his co-worker. Several other guards, who had been chasing after Van Hyning as well, stood to the side conversing quietly and casting nervous glances Draco's way.

Other than that, no one seemed interested in hearing what Draco had to say in the matter, as if it was of little consequence that his guard had arrived at work today and decided to murder Draco's father and then Draco as if it were all part of his normal work routine. Draco had to wonder if any of the guards who had chased after Van Hyning had seen the look, or lack thereof that was in his eyes. Draco had seen that look more times than he could count on the dozens of witches and wizards Lord Voldemort had Imperiused in order to force them to do his will. Their blank stares alone were enough to give Draco nightmares without all the added horrors the Dark Lord had committed.

Van Hyning hadn't shown any signs of discontent the past weekend and had been his usual quiet, but observant self. Astoria had visited Draco on Sunday, and once during their conversation had reached over to lay her hand upon Draco's and Van Hyning hadn't barked his usual 'No touching', much to Draco's gratification. Feeling the soft skin of Astoria's palm upon the back of his hand had been intoxicating, and Draco had closed his eyes and been transported outside the dark, dank walls of Azkaban for a brief moment before she had withdrawn her hand once more. He could still recall how her cheeks had flushed pink from embarrassment at her impetuousness. He had wanted to tell her he hadn't minded at all, but Van Hyning had then called his time and all Draco had been able to utter was his appreciation for her visit and the _Prophets_ she had given him.

All the remainder of Sunday and into Monday morning, Draco had berated himself for not expressing how much more he enjoyed her visits and how he wished he could see her more often. He hadn't even noticed when Van Hyning didn't show up as he usually did for his Monday morning shift until a substitute had arrived to take his place. Even then, Draco had simply assumed Van Hyning had fallen ill. Never in his wildest imaginations would he have thought the guard would arrive later in the afternoon and attempt to kill him.

Draco was shaken to the core, and even more so when he overheard the guards mentioning how Van Hyning had murdered his father first. Draco wasn't sure how he felt about his father being dead. Most people would feel sorrow, he was sure, but all he could feel was relief that the man who had forced his will upon his only son was dead. Most present in his mind was the dead look in Van Hyning's eyes as he attempted to kill Draco, and it was something Draco doubted he would ever forget.

The clang of the steel door at the end of the cell block echoed down the stone corridor and jolted Draco from his musings. The men outside Draco's cell glanced down the corridor, and Minister Shacklebolt stepped away from Head Auror Robards to greet the newcomer.

"Harry," Shacklebolt's voice echoed back to Draco's ears. "Thank you for coming."

Draco was shocked at the relief that suddenly flooded through him and then felt immensely repulsed by it. As much as he had been hoping to have the opportunity to attempt to question his old rival regarding Lord Voldemort and a few of the items he had found to be of so much importance, he hated feeling beholden to Potter in any way. However, Draco also realized there would be no one else who would be able to help him. He was quite certain that Van Hyning had been controlled by something; it was the only answer that made any sense to him.

As if sensing his thoughts, Potter flicked his eyes over at Draco as Shacklebolt briefed him on what had occurred, but quickly returned his full attention to the Minister of Magic. They spoke for a few moments longer before moving off to speak with the guard who had apprehended Van Hyning. The visibly shaken guard explained once again how he had merely Stunned Van Hyning and several other guards who had been steps behind him corroborated his statement. Robards dismissed the guards as two healers headed towards the group. They reported in to Shacklebolt before moving to examine Van Hyning, followed by Potter, the Minister, and Robards.

All this time Draco had thought Van Hyning was dead, but when the healers levitated his body and rolled him over in the air, Draco could see he was indeed alive. However, his eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling above him and a rivulet of spittle ran down his cheek.

The healers conversed amongst themselves for several minutes before turning to give a preliminary report to Minister Shacklebolt and Head Auror Robards. Potter interjected his own questions several times and then stepped over to examine Van Hyning's body himself. Potter rubbed his forehead absent-mindedly as his eyes roved over Van Hyning's face and he quickly turned away to ask the healers another question.

Draco strained to hear what they were saying, but they were too far away and kept their voices low. When Potter appeared satisfied, the healers began to move the body towards the exit followed by Robards and Shacklebolt. Instead of following after them, Potter turned to observe Draco from the still open cell door. He stared impassively for a few moments before taking a step just inside to speak with Draco.

"Care to explain to me what happened here?" Potter asked.

"How should I know?" Draco spat. "Your guard tried to kill me!"

"I never personally met Van Hyning, but I hear he was an exceptional guard," Potter stated. "It's a shame he was saddled with you. Any ideas why he would decide to murder your father and you?"

"No," Draco replied. "But I know who would like to murder us, and you, if he was given the chance."

Potter scowled at him. "Don't start with that Voldemort paranoia again, Malfoy. I already told you that I took care of him five years ago."

"Did you wrap up all the loose ends, Potter and bury them with the body?" Draco sneered.

"While you were at school torturing helpless first years, I was making sure to wrap up all the loose ends so we'd be rid of that bastard for good," Potter countered.

"I think you missed something," Draco replied, raising his chin in defiance.

"If I had missed anything, neither of us would be standing here having this inane conversation," Potter ground out. "Stop trying to tell me about things you know nothing about."

"Why did my guard murder my father and try to kill me, then, Potter?" Draco yelled, jumping off his bed and closing the distance between them to glare at Potter. "He was controlled! I saw his eyes, I know!"

"What did his eyes look like?" Potter asked, returning to his line of questioning.

"As if he was Imperiused," Draco replied.

Potter pondered this statement a moment before continuing. "Did you notice anything else unusual about Van Hyning before the incident today?"

"No," Draco replied.

"Did you ever speak with Van Hyning about your father or vice versa?" Potter pressed.

"No," Draco answered. "I spoke with my mother during her last visit about my father and Van Hyning was there, but never directly to him."

"What did you and your mother discuss, exactly in regards to Lucius?" Potter asked.

Draco thought back to his conversation with his mother. "We talked about how Lord Voldemort entrusted my father with a book, and how angry he had been when he discovered it had been destroyed. I berated my mother quite a bit and Van Hyning seemed to find that amusing."

Potter's eyes narrowed when Draco mentioned the book. "I wish I could say I was sorry about your father, but I'm not."

Draco shrugged. "Neither am I. He deserved it. I'm serious about Lord Voldemort."

"I know you are," Potter said. "Why aren't you crying for more protection then?"

"How do you protect yourself from a ghost, Potter?" Draco asked.

"A man tried to kill you today, not a ghost," Potter answered.

"The Dark Lord possessed Quirrell once, and forced him to do his will," Draco said and then played the card that he knew may very well make Potter finish what Van Hyning had attempted. "And the Weaslette."

Potter's face hardened. "Thanks to your father." His jaw clenched as he mulled over the information Draco had given him. "I'll look into the possibility that Van Hyning was coerced somehow. I'll also have the warden cast a protective ward over your cell. It's the best I can do until we know anything more. Let me know if you think of anything else that might be useful."

Draco gaped at Potter as he stepped back outside the cell and shut the door behind him. Without another word he headed back down the corridor, leaving Draco alone. He couldn't believe Potter hadn't dismissed his theory, as he had the last time they met. He hadn't accepted it either, but Draco had no doubt Potter would do as he had said, and investigate the incident further.

Sighing, Draco glanced down at the floor where Van Hyning's body had sprawled and felt a twinge of remorse. He really had begun to like the man, and was certain that the intent to murder him had not been Van Hyning's.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny pulled the curtain back from the claw footed tub in the steamy bathroom and reached for a towel to dry off. She was just stepping onto the thick rug when she saw what appeared to be words scrawled across the mirror. Wrapping the towel around her, to better see the words and her mouth dropped open in shock.

**'I see you, little girl.**' Droplets of water dripped down from the bottoms of the letters like blood and the print looked horribly similar to what she had scrawled on the wall of Hogwarts ten years ago.

Only one person had ever called her 'little girl'. He had been a shadow of an evil sixteen-year-old boy named Tom Riddle, a boy who had grown up to become the darkest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. It was impossible for him to be here. He could not have possibly written the message on the mirror. Harry had seen to Voldemort's final demise four years ago.

"Harry?" she called knowing he wouldn't answer, as he had left her hours ago to visit Azkaban to investigate Lucius Malfoy's murder.

"Alithea?" Another futile attempt. More than likely Alithea was dozing on her perch in Harry's study on the first floor of the house or she was out hunting.

The words were slowly becoming illegible as the heat from the shower slowly dissipated. Ginny crept closer, reaching her hand out to touch the mirror, but as she did so, an invisible hand slashed through the writing, smearing the water over the reflective surface and revealing Ginny's stark white, frightened face.

Screaming in terror, Ginny scrambled away from the mirror until her back hit the opposite wall and she sank to the cold tile floor, trembling. Her eyes darted around the room, checking every corner, under the sink, and toilet, but there was nothing there. All the same, she felt as if a malevolent presence was waiting for something.

Ginny thought that perhaps if she didn't move it wouldn't be able to find her. She tried to quiet her breathing, which sounded too loud in her ears. Hugging the towel tighter around her body, she drew her knees up to her chest, making herself as small as possible.

_"Wake up, little girl," a harsh voice whispered._

_Coming out of her trance, Ginny found herself standing in a gloomy stone chamber with hideously large serpentine columns and a tall giant-sized Salazar Slytherin standing at the far end. The diary lay open on the ground where she had dropped it and a sickly yellowish light was streaming out of it. Shielding her eyes, she watched as the light coalesced into the shape of a sixteen-year-old boy._

_Suddenly an incredible weakness washed over her and, her knees buckled under her weight. She fell to the ground, feeling the cold of the flagstone seeping through her robes and into her bones._

_"Hello, Ginevra," the boy said. "It's nice to finally meet my liberator in person. I'm Tom Riddle."_

_"What have you done to me?" Ginny weakly asked, her sight blurring around the edges._

_"Oh, I'm draining your life force so I can live again," Tom calmly said._

_"No," Ginny mumbled as black dots popped before her eyes._

_"Didn't you know this was how it was going to end?" Tom asked. "I doubt anyone will care to save you; not after they find out what you did. Petrifying your friends wasn't very nice, Ginevra."_

_"I didn't do that!" Ginny exclaimed, the words sounding like a scream in her head, but coming out pathetically weak._

_"Oh, but you did," Tom sneered. "With my help, of course. But they won't know that, because all your victims ever saw was you and my Basilisk." Tom observed her dispassionately for a moment, a hard glint sparking in his eyes before he continued. "However, before you die, I'm really hoping your little crush finds his way down here. After all, he's the only one who would be able to open the chamber to rescue you, if he even cares. Do you think he cares, Ginevra? About a little girl like you?"_

_Ginny felt hot tears splash down her cooling cheeks. "Please don't hurt Harry. Kill me instead."_

_"How utterly touching," Tom mocked. "And so delusional. He doesn't really 'see' you. You're just Ronald's little sister. Do you think he would offer his life in exchange for yours?"_

_Ginny could no longer feel her arms or legs. She'd been attempting to support her upper body on her hands, but her arms collapsed under her, sending her face first onto the floor. She struggled to turn her head, and just managed it before her strength gave out._

_"Don't try to prolong your life," Tom said. "The quicker you die, the sooner I become corporeal and finish what Lord Voldemort started twelve years ago. You see, Ginevra," he said, gazing down at her and smiling cruelly. "I am Lord Voldemort."_

_Ginny gave a guttural cry and struggled to sit up, but her body no longer was responding to her direction. Tom laughed coldly as he drifted towards a shadowy corner near Slytherin's statue._

_"I think I hear someone coming, Ginevra!" he whispered gleefully. "Your supposed saviour approaches!"_

_He slunk back into the shadows as the far wall began to slide open. Ginny briefly hoped that perhaps Professor Dumbledore stood on the other side of the door. He would know what to do and surely would rescue her. However, she then faintly recalled that she had sent him an owl several hours ago requesting his immediate presence at the Ministry. It would not be Dumbledore coming to her aid._

_The door slid back completley and standing there in its opening was Harry, alone and already grimy and bloodied from Merlin knew what. He looked incredibly unsure and small standing there. If Ginny had had an ounce of energy left she'd have screamed for him to turn around and leave before it was too late. As it was, her pleas sounded only in her head and the darkness that had threatened to consume her took her vision as well._

_She was completely immobile now, having lost sensation in her body. The only sense that remained was her hearing and at the moment all she could hear were Harry's footsteps as he slowly entered the Chamber. His hesitant steps became rushed as he moved towards her, and knelt beside her, breathing heavily._

_"Ginny!" he exclaimed, rolling her over, and shaking her roughly. "Ginny - don't be dead - please, don't be dead -"_

"Ginny!"

Déjà vu, she was in Harry's arms again as he brushed her wet hair away from her face and the look in his eyes was the same, worry, fear, concern, and love from so many years ago. Endless, fathomless, eternal love, and she wept because Voldemort would never rest until he had taken Harry away from her.

"He was here," she whispered and Harry's eyes widened as he gripped her tighter to him. "He wrote on the mirror."

Harry glanced up at the mirror where the words had been. "Who was here?"

"Tommm," the name caught in Ginny's throat, followed by bile that she swallowed back down, and making her grimace as she tried to continue. "He wrote, 'I see you, little girl'," Ginny gasped, a fresh burst of tears falling to drip on Harry's arms.

"What?" Harry asked, shaking his head in confusion. "What are you talking about, Ginny? You aren't making any sense."

"He told me all you saw when you looked at me was a little girl. Is that true?" Ginny continued, ignoring him.

"When? Then or now?" Harry queried.

"In the Chamber," Ginny said. "That you only thought of me as Ron's little sister."

"Of course I did!" Harry exclaimed. "You were, and I was just a boy."

"You liked Hermione," Ginny accused, confused where her sudden anger was coming from.

Harry sighed. "You know Hermione was different. I didn't see her as a girl, only my best friend."

"You didn't see me at all!" Ginny wailed, unable to control her irrationality.

"That's simply not true," Harry countered. "I tried talking to you, but every time I did you would clam up. And after the Chamber, life kept getting more and more complicated."

"Not complicated enough for you not to notice Cho," Ginny spat.

"And you fancied Michael and then Dean," Harry stated calmly. "Don't do this, Gin."

She looked up into his eyes, which were full of understanding, compassion, and love for her and Ginny broke down crying. "Oh Harry! I saw it all again. Everything I did, and all the horrible things he said to me in the Chamber and you were there. But it was so much worse this time, because I have you and have loved you. I could feel him trying to tear it all away and I was dying while he laughed. He was so sure he was going to kill you. He was going to take you away from me."

"He doesn't have the power to do that," Harry affirmed. "He never did and he never will."

"Why do I keep remembering those awful things?" Ginny asked, fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. "I want them to go away. Make them go away."

"Ah, Gin," Harry soothed, rocking her gently. "I don't know. If I could, I'd take it all away." Ginny wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest, crying silently.

"It must have been my imagination; the writing on the mirror," Ginny murmured. "The thought of Lucius being dead brought it all back. I've wanted him dead for so long, Harry."

"I know," Harry whispered in her ear. "He's really dead, Gin. He can't hurt you anymore. Put the demons to rest, love. Let's put them to rest."


	11. Ch 10 - Ghost or Demon

**Author's Notes: **I'm playing catch-up since I'm a bit behind posting chapters here. Hope you enjoy, and thanks again to my wonderful betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry spent the following morning with Williamson at Azkaban, this time interviewing all the guards that had been on duty when Malcolm Van Hyning had gone on his rampage, as well as the Azkaban warden, Warden Singh. None of them had been able to give Harry any reason as to why Van Hyning would turn so suddenly, and the warden had expressed again what an exceptional guard Van Hyning had been.

After the interviews, Harry and Williamson had checked every wand that had been on the premises at the time for the Imperius curse. Nothing unexpected had turned up and therefore they didn't have an explanation for why Van Hyning had seemingly lost his mind.

In the afternoon, Harry and Williamson went to St. Mungo's to speak with the healers in charge of Malcolm Van Hyning and to attempt to interrogate the guard as well. They met the healers in the hallway outside the closed doors, but the healers didn't have anything more to say than they had the night before when they had first examined Van Hyning. Apparently, there had been no change in his condition and they were quickly losing hope that there would be.

Nodding, Harry steeled himself before entering the closed ward and was immediately accosted by a blur of blond hair and purple robes. Williamson grumbled in annoyance and Professor Lockhart grinned broadly at him and then over to Harry. Harry sighed inwardly, as it was always the same every time he had to visit the ward. Lockhart spent his days hovering near the doors in the hopes that anyone would walk through that he could talk to.

The old Hogwarts Defence professor peered intently at Harry and his smile faltered. "Do I know you?"

"Bloody hell, again?" Williamson growled.

"Yes," Harry answered Lockhart, ignoring his partner.

"I thought so!" Lockhart crowed. "You're nearly as rakishly handsome as myself, but your hair, chap." The professor tsked loudly as he noted Harry's messy black locks.

Harry eyed Lockhart's perfectly pomaded and coiffed hair as Williamson chuckled behind him. "The crazy old coot has you there, Potter."

"Would you like my autograph?" Lockhart asked, flashing his still pearly white teeth at Harry.

"I already have one, thank you," Harry answered, trying to move past the man.

Lockhart looked disappointed with this answer and turned his attentions to Williamson who would have nothing of it. "Don't even try, old man."

"Old man!" Lockhart cried. "I'll have you know I am in my prime! I'm told I have a winning smile." He began pulling photographs of himself from inside his robes and a self-inking quill. "Who shall I make the first one out to?"

Fortunately, a healer came over and began leading Lockhart away before Williamson exploded. Harry watched her talk softly to Lockhart and settle him at a table where he happily began scrawling illegibly across the photos and sliding them across the table towards her.

Harry and Williamson headed down the aisle towards the bed Van Hyning was assigned. There weren't many patients in the ward at the moment, and Harry assumed they were either at therapy sessions or perhaps with family members who had stopped by for a visit. They passed by the closed curtains that were the permanent home of Neville's parents as well as the beds of some of the victims from the illegal potions case Harry had recently closed.

Stopping outside an enclosure near the end of the ward, Williamson parted the curtains and allowed Harry to step in first before following after him. Van Hyning looked exactly the same as he had at Azkaban except now he was lying on a bed with the covers tucked tightly around his body. His hands lay limply at his sides and his eyes stared sightlessly up at the ceiling above him.

"We aren't going to get anything out of him," Williamson immediately commented upon seeing Van Hyning.

Harry nodded, studying the guard. Before arriving at St. Mungo's they had run the same tests on Van Hyning's wand that they had on all the guards at Azkaban. Aside from the Killing Curse Van Hyning had used on Lucius Malfoy all the last spells the guard had conducted had been the normal ones Harry would have expected to find. He stepped closer and examined Van Hyning's eyes. Yesterday when he had looked into Van Hyning's eyes Harry had once again felt the icy trickle run through his scar as he had after his dreams of the soul shard. However, today he didn't feel anything and Van Hyning's dark eyes were blank and soulless.

"He looks like he was kissed by a Dementor," Harry mused aloud.

Williamson stepped up next to him and studied Van Hyning's face as well. "We know that's not possible. Someone would have noticed if a Dementor had entered Azkaban."

Harry silently agreed, but the vacant expression on the Azkaban guard's face troubled him all the same. "I suppose we may never know what set him off."

"It's a hard profession," Williamson commented. "Even without Dementors patrolling the grounds, Azkaban is a nightmarish place. It takes a tough breed to be a guard there and even the toughest nut can crack."

"Yes, but why?" Harry pressed. "Warden Singh said Van Hyning never exhibited any signs of distress prior."

"He certainly isn't going to be telling us." Williamson gestured toward the prone guard. "It's like the healers informed us, he's gone, Potter."

Harry blew his breath out in frustration. "I don't like unsolved cases."

"This isn't an unsolved case, Potter," Williamson tersely said. "The guard lost his mind, plain and simple. Now we'll go back and file the report and close this case."

Williamson chalked the entire matter up to the stress of the job finally affecting the man, as had happened with a guard or two in the past. However, that didn't explain why Van Hyning was now a permanent resident of the closed ward and little more than a vegetable.

When Harry returned to his office, he sat down at his desk feeling as if dark storm clouds were following him around wherever he roamed. Even changing the view outside his window from the Cliffs of Dover to the sandy beaches of Nice, where he and Ginny had honeymooned did little to raise his spirits. Pulling the blind down over his window and effectively blocking out the cheerful sight of the beach umbrellas flapping in what was certainly a warm, salty breeze, Harry turned his back on the window and looked down at the ink blotter on his desk instead.

With the state of Van Hyning, Draco's convictions, the dishes, drawer, his medal, and Ginny's vision, Harry was beginning to have serious doubts that they were simply dealing with a mischievous poltergeist.

After arriving home late last evening and finding Ginny in the state she had been in, Harry had spent the better part of the night cradling her in his arms and lying awake, examining the issue from every angle. When she had calmed down, she had insisted she must have imagined the whole thing, and since Harry hadn't been there, he had no way of knowing if that were true or not.

From within his robe pocket, he withdrew his Order of Merlin medal and placed it on his desk. He brushed his fingers over the marred surface, feeling the rough ridges scrape over the pads of his fingers. It had been naïve to think the damage had been caused by some natural event, as it was clear that it had been deliberate.

Draco had suggested Harry had missed something five years ago, but Albus had been extremely thorough in his research of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Harry unconsciously rubbed the scar on his forehead and thought about the unsettling dream he had had over a month ago. He'd felt an icy trickle within the scar when he had examined Van Hyning yesterday, but it had been fleeting, once again like a faint echo of the intense pain it used to cause him. Could Voldemort's ghost cause him to experience the strange sensation?

Ghosts weren't that difficult to deal with, usually. The Ministry had ways to force ghosts who were haunting helpless wizards and witches to leave them alone and return to the place of their death. He had never heard of a ghost actually possessing a living being and forcing them to do its will. There again, when Voldemort had been in spectral form he had possessed Quirrell, just as Draco had said, but Voldemort also hadn't really been dead, merely disembodied. Not only that, but Voldemort had also been able to possess Harry, albeit briefly, and that had been when he was once again in his human form. There was the slight possibility that Van Hyning may have been possessed and not Imperiused, as Draco had suggested.

One of the problems Harry foresaw if it came down to him discovering that indeed the ghost of Tom Riddle was haunting him and possibly Draco Malfoy, was convincing the Ministry of that fact. He didn't want to think of the repercussions it was going to cause him if word of this ever got out. The second bigger problem was where would the ghost return to?

Gathering up the medal and shoving it back in his pocket, Harry stood, realizing at the moment there was only one person he could go to with this issue, and that was Hermione. Locking his office behind him, he headed to the lobby and called a lift to take him to the fourth level where the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was located. Hermione had chosen to work in the Being Division of this department in order to pursue her campaign to one day free house-eves. So far she was not having much success in that endeavour, but had been very instrumental in spear-heading some other significant changes that had been beneficial to centaurs and goblins.

As Harry walked through the hallways towards Hermione's office, various people called 'hello', but none of them bothered to ask if he needed any help. By now they were all used to him popping down from time to time to pay his old friend a visit.

When he reached Hermione's door, he found her surrounded by piles of books pertaining to ghosts, apparitions, and poltergeists and furiously scribbling across a piece of parchment. Her normally bushy hair was pulled back in a loose bun on top of her head, but long strands had worked their way free and stuck out in frizzy spirals by her ears and forehead. She brushed one errant curl away from her eyes in exasperation causing Harry to chuckle.

"Eek!" Hermione cried, turning around, pressing her hands to her chest and dripping ink from her quill down her pink blouse as she glared up at Harry. "Harry! You scared me! What are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you today."

"Sorry, Hermione," Harry said apologetically. "I stopped by to ask you something, but I can see you are already up to your elbows in research."

"For you," Hermione accused, glancing down at her blouse and grimacing. "Oh, look what you made me do!" She picked up her wand that had been resting on the edge of her desk and waved it over her blouse. Immediately, the blotches of ink on her blouse disappeared and she sighed in satisfaction. "You would have owed me a new blouse if those hadn't come out."

Harry nodded absentmindedly, stepping completely inside and closing the door behind him. He sat in the one chair Hermione had for anyone who visited and picked up a book off the top of the pile nearest to him and read the cover, _The Care and Keeping of Ghosts_ by Damia Spectre.

"That one is pure rubbish," Hermione commented. "It recommended making a bed out of dust bunnies in order to appease restless spirits."

"Have you discovered anything worthwhile?" Harry asked, placing the book back on the pile.

"Well," Hermione began. "I found out it takes a lot of psychic energy for a spirit to be able to affect the physical world. Most don't possess the ability. So whatever yanked your desk drawer out had to be very powerful."

Harry thought this over. "Moaning Myrtle was able to make the water splash in the toilets when she dove into them."

"That's because she was always highly agitated during those times and the splashing water was caused by the aftershock of her psychic energy," Hermione explained.

"How about possession?" Harry asked. "Are ghosts capable of that?"

"I don't think so," Hermione answered. "I haven't come across anything like that in the books. Now, demons are another story."

"What's the difference between a demon and a ghost?" Harry asked.

"Demons are considered unclean spirits or evil angels," Hermione explained. "They have the capability to possess a person, but again they have to be very powerful. Why are you asking? Has something else happened?"

"A guard at Azkaban murdered Lucius Malfoy yesterday," Harry informed her, glancing over at the door to ensure it was indeed closed. "Malfoy said he thought the guard was Imperiused, but I wasn't able to find any evidence of that."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Merlin, Harry, I didn't read anything about it in the_ Daily Prophet_ this morning."

"It was late," Harry replied. "More than likely it will be in the evening edition."

"Is Draco still insisting that it's You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked and Harry couldn't help but snicker. "Why are you laughing?" she asked indignantly.

"You-Know-Who, Hermione?" Harry asked between chuckles.

She grimaced. "I was trying to be discreet for your sake!"

"Whether you say You-Know-Who or Voldemort, everyone knows who you are talking about," Harry replied. "But, to answer your question, yes, Malfoy is still insisting this is all Voldemort's doing."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said. "You know that can't be true." Harry didn't answer this immediately, causing Hermione to study him intently. "You are beginning to believe him!" she exclaimed, incredulously. "Is there something else you haven't told me?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "Ginny's had a couple of bad spells, flashbacks of the Chamber and my scar has tingled, and..." Harry blew his breath out in frustration. "Every time I say it out loud I hear how ridiculous I sound."

Hermione looked sympathetic. "Harry," she said gently. "It's normal to experience nightmares from time to time, especially with everything that happened to the two of you."

"Ginny hasn't had nightmares since before we were married and the last one was waking," Harry replied, not hiding his concern.

"Waking?" Hermione asked.

"She thought she saw writing on the mirror and it triggered a flashback," Harry further explained.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione said sincerely. "Is she all right?"

"I think so. She felt better today," Harry said, slipping his hand in his robe pocket to finger his medal.

"Are you all right?" Hermione pressed, looking at him intently.

"I'm fine," Harry said, shaking his head to clear it and coming to a decision. "Would you mind looking into what is needed to bind a ghost?" Harry asked. "It's not going to hurt anything."

"All right," Hermione agreed. "My department doesn't have cause to perform binding rituals much, so it may take a little digging. I think Myrtle may have been the last ghost to be bound, actually, and that was over fifty years ago. Most ghosts are content to haunt a place that has sentimental meaning to them and don't interact much with the physical world."

"What about the other ghosts at Hogwarts, then?" Harry inquired.

"Oh, well, they were invited to represent the houses," Hermione supplied. "As for Peeves, I think Professor Dumbledore found him amusing and that's why he was allowed to stay."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said.

Hermione gazed up at him. "I'm glad you trust me, Harry. I was worried after the daft things I said last weekend you would avoid seeking my help."

Harry smiled reassuringly. "I know you only have my best interests at heart, like always, Hermione. Listen, I should get back. I still have to file the final report on Lucius, and more than likely give a statement for the _Prophet_." That thought had just occurred to him and Harry dreaded it.

"I'll let you know when I find out what we need to perform the binding," Hermione replied.

Harry nodded his affirmation and left her to resume her research.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny fingered the emerald green scarab amulet that hung from a long golden chain around her neck as she stared at her reflection in the master bath mirror. Bill had bought her the necklace at a bazaar in Cairo when she and her entire family travelled to Egypt to see him the summer after her disastrous first year. He had explained to her that the ancient Egyptians believed that the scarab could ward off evil spirits and thought perhaps it would make her feel better. It had at the time, and she had never taken it off throughout the remainder of her time at Hogwarts. However, after the end of the war as things had settled down into normalcy, she had to admit she had become complacent and there had been days where she had taken the necklace off and forgotten to put it back on.

Before he left for work that morning, Harry had offered to move her toiletries into the bathroom on the first floor if she wanted, but Ginny had dismissed this idea and berated him for being overprotective when she was perfectly capable of looking out for herself. Never mind the fact that he had found her in a helpless heap the night before and she had cried all over him until the front of his robes were soaked. This was the second time in less than a month he had found her in an agitated state over blasted memories of the Chamber.

She scowled at herself in the mirror. She was stronger than a memory and was damned if she was going to let herself succumb again. Dropping the necklace inside her robes, Ginny turned away from the mirror and exited the bathroom. She decided the best thing she could do was to focus on doing her best at her job, and with that thought headed to the Harpies stadium.

Like Harry, soaring in the air did wonders at clearing her head and she didn't mind at all when Gwenog pushed the team to their limits. Ginny welcomed the exertion and how tired she was by the end of the day. She was happy to note that she hadn't even thought about the incident in the bathroom all day. She showered and dressed and as she was exiting the lobby picked up an edition of the_ Evening Prophet_ that was sitting on the corner of the reception desk. She was gratified to see the blazing headline: **Just Desserts for Death Eater** and read how Lucius Malfoy had been cut down by the Killing Curse and Harry's statement that previous victims and their loved ones who had been tormented by the man could rest easy this evening. She knew that general comment was for her and for her alone and her heart swelled in her chest.

When Ginny arrived home, she found Harry sitting at his desk in his study staring out the window at the setting sun and wordlessly she moved to sit in his lap and give him a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she settled against him, and resting her head next to his, looked out the window as well. The sun dipped below the tree line and cast long dark shadows across the back garden. The sky beyond the trees was a bright yellow at the horizon that graduated heavenward to deep orange, rose-red, seashell pink, lavender, and finally dark indigo with several stars already twinkling high in the sky.

"I read your statement to the press tonight," Ginny murmured. "Thank you. I'm sorry I snapped at you this morning."

"You're welcome," Harry replied. "You don't have to apologize to me, Gin. I understand."

"I cleared my head today," she continued. "I feel better."

"Good," Harry said, pulling her closer. "I did another sweep of the house when I came home tonight, and it's clear."

"Do you think we need to worry?" Ginny asked, idly fiddling with the chain of her necklace.

"You tell me," Harry answered, taking her hand and withdrawing the necklace until the pendant swung down to sway gently from their entwined fingers.

Ginny sighed. "I feel foolish."

"Don't," Harry assured her. "There's nothing wrong with having a little reassurance, no matter the form. Do we need to worry further, Gin?"

"No," she whispered. "It was my imagination, I'm sure of it."

Harry nodded. "Do you still want to have our friends over on Friday?"

Ginny squirmed in his lap, making him drop the pendant as she turned to look at him. "Yes. I don't want our lives to stop because of this."

"I agree," he said sincerely, gazing at her. "I'd do anything for you, you know."

"I know," Ginny uttered, staring into his beautiful green eyes. "Ditto, love."


	12. Ch 11 - Tall, Dark, and Mysterious

**Author's Notes: **Many thanks to my fantastic betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny who are always a tremendous help, but were especially helpful on this one. I hope you all enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Draco watched the rotation of his guard from where he sat on his bed, his back leaning against the damp wall. Since the incident with his former guard, Van Hyning, his guards were in constant rotation. Each time a new guard came on duty he would check the ward Potter had promised would be erected over Draco's cell, and each time a silvery shimmer floated down the walls and into the floor. Draco wasn't certain what exactly the ward was designed to keep out, and Warden Singh had not been very forthcoming with any details.

His mother had been allowed to visit on Tuesday and despite the intense feelings of animosity Draco felt for his father, even in death, he had sympathized with his mother. It had to be a difficult potion to swallow to realize they had survived the entire bloody war and subjugation under Lord Voldemort, only to have her husband cut down in cold blood by an Azkaban guard.

Draco had wanted to confide in his mother his theory and hope that she would be able to enlighten him on any ways Lord Voldemort may have spoken of returning after death. However, she had been overwhelmed by her grief and fear for Draco's life, and all he had been able to do was reassure her that he was all right.

She had reluctantly left him, clutching to him when the guard had allowed her to hug her only son, tears streaming down her face and Draco, in a moment of weakness, had promised her he would write to her more often. That had appeased her and she had left quietly.

First thing Wednesday morning, he had received a letter from Astoria professing her fear for him. Apparently, there had been an article in the _Evening Prophet_ detailing the murder of Lucius Malfoy and Draco's incident as well. Draco was surprised he had not been asked for a statement for the press, but he supposed those types of liberties would be denied him. Astoria was coming for a visit today and Draco decided it would be best if he confided in her completely. After all, she was his only friend at the moment and the only one, other than his mother, who genuinely seemed to care for him.

After lunch, a guard approached to unlock his cell and indicated that Draco should follow him. Draco eyed him warily, but the guard remained impassive, his hands at his sides and empty, so Draco exited his cell and followed the man back down the corridor towards the visitation room.

When the door opened, the normally drab and grey room appeared brightened by Astoria's satin blonde hair and the magenta robes she was wearing. She rose from her seat when Draco entered and a warm smile of relief touched her pink lips.

"Draco," she breathed. "I'm so glad you're all right."

Draco returned her smile. "It's good to see you, Astoria."

He took the seat across from her and drank in the sight of her. Her hands were folded neatly atop a small pile of papers and magazines and her fingernails were painted a pale seashell pink that reflected the light from the torches on the wall. Her cheeks coloured pink to match as he stared and he quickly slid his gaze down to the table. His ears burned with his impertinence and he was about to apologize when Astoria's tremulous voice asked, "Were you frightened?"

He looked back up at her and saw worry darkening her eyes. "Yes."

She began to reach for his hand, but flicked her gaze uncertainly over towards the guard. The large man scowled over at the two of them and she simply left her hand, fingers splayed out in the middle of the table. "I wish we could hold hands."

Draco looked back up at her in surprise. "You do?"

"I – I like you, Draco," Astoria whispered. "When I heard what had happened to your father and nearly you, I was beside myself with worry. I could hardly stand to wait until today to see you."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Because you have been kind to me," Astoria said. "My sister told me I was daft to fancy you."

"Well, your sister always thought she was better than everyone else in Slytherin," Draco responded before realizing he was putting down the sister of the woman he had feelings for. His face blazed and he avoided her gaze, staring past her shoulder to the door behind her.

Instead of becoming indignant, however, Astoria's bell-like laughter rang in the room. "Funny, Daphne said the same thing about you. I don't care what you were like at school, Draco. All that matters is what I see now, and I can see that you have changed."

Draco smirked. "I appreciate your vote of confidence, but I think you may be the only one."

"Why do you think your guard tried to kill you?" Astoria asked, looking over at him intently.

Draco shook his head. "I don't know," he paused, thinking over the events, Van Hyning's dead eyes, and the presence Draco had felt in his cell. He had never been forthcoming with Astoria regarding his suspicions. Potter was one thing, since Draco could care less what Potter thought of him, but he had been hesitant to confide in Astoria for fear of scaring her away. She had just admitted she fancied him, so perhaps he should be honest with her. He looked down at her hand, still lying on the table and hesitantly slid his own hand across the table until the very tips of their fingers touched.

"I've been having dreams of the past," Draco reflected slowly.

"I know," Astoria sadly sighed.

"There's more," Draco continued, fixedly staring at their hands. He lowered his voice so only Astoria would be able to hear what he said next. "You have been in them. Even though you weren't there and the Dark Lord knew nothing of you at the time, he has threatened you. He commands me to give him Potter or he's going to kill you."

"They're only dreams, Draco," Astoria whispered. "It's your subconscious drawing upon your deepest fears. I can't think of anything more monstrous or frightening than the Dark Lord."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't explain the presence I have felt in my cell after the dreams," Draco replied, his voice shaking.

"Have you told anyone else?" Astoria asked.

Draco shook his head. "Only Potter, but I'm not sure he fully believes me. He intimated that he already knew the Dark Lord's secrets and had taken care of them. I lived with the evil git, and I know he would stop at nothing to return any way, in any form he could." He raised his eyes and looked directly into hers.

She held his gaze and nodded. "I believe you. How can I help?"

**hghghghg ghghghghg**

Ginny, Rachel, and Anaïs flew down the Quiddicth pitch in an arrow formation, passing the Quaffle between them, all the while being chased by Josie and Ella who batted a Bludger back and forth, as well.The Chasers goal was to keep the Quaffle in play and score a goal, while avoiding being hit by the Bludger the two Beaters continued to throw at them. Ginny had been caught off-guard a couple of times during practice by a glancing blow that had marred her aim. It had been annoying more than it had caused injury and pain and as the day progressed she found herself constantly looking over her shoulder and having to compensate for incoming Bludgers sent her way by the Beaters. It was great practice, however, and kept her on her toes. While it may have been annoying to some players, Ginny found that it actually made her play better, since she became hyper aware of her surroundings.

Apparently, Gwenog thought so as well since they spent the better part of practice running such maneouvres in order to get them into shape for their upcoming match against Puddlemere the following weekend. Ginny had no doubt that she and her fellow chasers were more than ready to face Puddlemere, even though both teams were evenly matched in ranking. The match could feasibly go either way, but Ginny knew that she, Rachel, and Anaïs were a daunting trio and the Puddlemere Chasers would have to work very hard to beat them.

Josie and Ella were a tight team, as well, in sync even more so than Fred and George had ever been and Ginny knew they prided themselves on being able to know where the other was on the pitch at all times and what she intended to do. They had spectacular aim and they always targeted the weaker areas of the other Quidditch players, shoulders, elbows, and forearms, as those were the most likely spots to cause opposing Chasers to drop the Quaffle. It was their signature move, and they avoided playing dirty as some Beaters in the league did by slamming Bludgers into the heads and backs of other players. Those types of blows led to the greatest of injuries and in professional Quidditch could cripple a player for life. Ginny admired her fellow players for their integrity and thought, if the methods worked, there was nothing to criticize.

While it had been an extremely productive and fulfilling practice, Ginny was relieved when Gwenog finally blew her whistle to call an end to the day.

"Nice practice today, ladies!" Gwenog barked as she followed the team into the locker room. Grumbles echoed around at how chipper she appeared to be. "Now, you all played well, and because of that I'm giving you the weekend off in order to enjoy Weasley's party. However, don't enjoy it so much that you're late for practice Monday morning. I'll be there, so no excuses, ladies."

This remark elicited more groans from most of the players and Rachel stuck her tongue out at Gwenog's retreating back. "Put your tongue back in your mouth Taylor unless you want to run extra laps on Monday."

Rachel did as she was told with a fake pout, but Gwenog's reprimanding hadn't diminished her spirits any. "I'm really looking forward to your party and seeing your house, Ginny. I hope Harry invited some of his single friends from work," she said as they changed out of their kits.

"I met the cutest bloke in the Auror Office once when I had to pop down there to plead my case against a complaint a neighbour had filed regarding excessive noise or some such nonsense," Josie called from her locker. "He was tallish, with short brown hair, and a very nice smile. He dismissed the complaint for me, which I thought was very nice of him. I think his name was Longbum or something like it."

"Longbottom?" Ginny asked, not able to contain her laughter over her friend's misnomer.

"That's it!" Josie exclaimed. "Is he a friend of yours? I wouldn't mind seeing him again."

"He is," Ginny replied. "But, sorry girls, he's spoken for."

"Bugger, the good ones always are," Josie complained.

"I imagine there will still be one or two eligible bachelors there," Ginny assured. She grabbed her toiletry bag and headed towards the showers along with Rachel.

"Have you had any other incidents at the house, Ginny?" Rachel asked quietly, so the others wouldn't hear.

"No," Ginny answered, pushing down the images of Tom taunting her that had plagued her just a few days prior. She liked that her friends outside of Hogwarts had no idea about the Chamber and her involvement in that whole ordeal, and she had no intention of ever telling them. Ginny had no doubt that being her closest friend on the team, Rachel would sympathize with her, as she had done over the dishes, but that wasn't what Ginny wanted. All she wanted was to have a normal life. "No, we haven't had any more trouble with moved dishes or the like."

After cleaning up, Ginny bid her teammates good-bye and that she would see them later. Despite any lingering misgivings Ginny may be feeling, she wanted to have her friends over. More than anything she thought it would be good for both her and Harry to take their minds off the events that had been plaguing them lately.

When she arrived home, she was surprised to find Harry was already there, sitting at his desk behind a pile of paperwork.

"What are you doing home so early?" Ginny asked since he had been working late every night, even though he had told her the Auror Office had already closed the case of Lucius Malfoy's murder.

"Robards reprimanded me for spending office hours on Lucius Malfoy's case, which Williamson closed, and sent me home," Harry grumbled, looking up from the file he had been examining.

"So, you brought it all home instead?" Ginny incredulously asked. "Harry, our friends will be arriving in a couple of hours." She looked around his cluttered office in dismay.

"I'll clean it up before then," Harry assured her.

"You'd better," Ginny ordered. "Hannah will be arriving shortly to help with the food and George said he'd add a few decorations. I expect he'll be here soon, as well."

Ginny gave Harry a quick kiss before leaving him to it and headed into the kitchen to pull out some platters and bowls she thought Hannah may want to use. The front door chimed and Ginny left the dishware scattered on the worktop to go answer the door. Hannah and Neville stood on the front stoop holding crates and Ginny smiled broadly at them.

"Hi you two!" she enthused, reaching for the crate Hannah was carrying. "Let me help you." She took the crate and stepped aside to allow them to enter. "Thanks so much for helping us out."

"No problem, Ginny," Hannah replied, following her into the kitchen. "Wow, I'm jealous over this worktop." Hannah admired the gleaming stone surfaces. "This gives me some ideas for the Cauldron. It could use an update in the kitchen."

"I bet," Ginny said, setting the crate on the table. "I pulled out a few things, but I wasn't sure what you would need."

"This is great," Hannah said. "Most everything is already prepared; I just need to set it out."

"I tried some of her hors d'oeuvres," Neville commented. "They're delicious!"

"You're just saying that because you're my boyfriend," Hannah giggled.

"I'd say it regardless because it's true," Neville attested, beginning to pull smaller boxes from within the crate and setting them on the worktop. "Where's Harry?"

"In his study," Ginny said, indicating the short passage from the kitchen that lead to the study. "Feel free to harass him, if you would like, Neville."

"If you don't need me," Neville began, looking expectantly over at Hannah.

"You've done your duty, love," Hannah said, pecking him on the cheek. "I'll call you if I need help."

"All right," Neville beamed and headed towards the study.

"Well," Ginny observed. "You and Neville seem to be cosy as always."

Hannah's cheeks pinked at her comment. "We are. I think he may propose before the end of the year. Oh, I hope he does, Ginny."

"Me too," Ginny agreed. "He'd be foolish not to! Now, can I do anything?"

"Just show me your pantry and I'll get to work," Hannah replied.

Ginny showed Hannah the pantry as well as where she could find anything in the cupboards, and was finishing up helping her unpack the remainder of the food from the crates when the Floo rang, signalling another arrival.

"Hello?" George's voice called from the front sitting room.

"In here, George!" Harry's voice called back from his study.

"Hey, mate," Ginny heard George reply before she supposed he came into proper speaking distance and lowered his voice.

"Let me know if you need anything else, Hannah," Ginny stated before leaving her friend to her culinary work and seeing to her brother.

George returned from Harry's study just as Ginny was entering the front room and his already broad smile, cracked even wider when he saw her. "Hey, little sis. Quite the place you have here."

"Thanks, George," Ginny said, allowing him to envelope her in a bear hug, but ducking out of the way of his knuckles. "Nice try," she said, stepping neatly out of his embrace.

George shrugged. "I can't help myself."

"You never can," Angelina commented dryly from where she stood by the fireplace.

"Hi, Angelina," Ginny smiled over at her old housemate and now rival Quidditch player. "Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it, Ginny," Angelina answered.

"So, where should we start?" George asked, pulling a satchel off his shoulder and setting it on the couch.

"In here, I suppose," Ginny replied. "We plan on the bulk of the party being in here and the dining room. What did you bring?" She opened the satchel and peered inside. It looked to be full of deflated balloons and bottles of fairy lights.

"You'll like it, sis," George said, pulling out a golden balloon and a jar. "As you probably recall, Angelina and I took a trip to China around the New Year and I was inspired by their paper lanterns. This is my version of that."

He inflated the balloon and opening the jar, guided several of the fairy lights inside the balloon before tying off the end and letting the balloon go. It floated just above their heads and cast a soft glow around them.

"You're right, I do like it," Ginny said, smiling over at her brother. "Good idea, George."

"I'm glad to have your seal of approval," George replied. "I'll get to it then."

The first of their friends arrived just after George had finished filling the last of the golden balloons with fairy lights that floated throughout the downstairs of the house and set it adrift in the foyer. Ginny thought they added a nice touch, and the warm light they emitted cast a cosy ambience in the dining and sitting rooms.

"Thanks, George!" Ginny beamed over at her brother where he stood with his girlfriend, Angelina.

"You're welcome, little sis," George replied, admiring his handiwork. "This is definitely giving me some ideas. I think I might need to open a party line."

"I'm sure it would go over with a bang, love," Angelina enthused, grinning broadly as she walked over to the large mahogany dining table and surveyed the food spread over it. "Ginny, this looks absolutely scrumptious."

While Ginny had been helping George and Angelina with the balloons, Hannah had covered the table from one end to the other with trays of delicious-looking finger foods. In the very middle was a tall silver fountain that bubbled a frothy pink punch with just enough kick to ensure the partygoers truly enjoyed themselves, or so Hannah promised. She and Neville were currently in the kitchen preparing more trays, even though from the looks of things there was plenty of food already.

"Thanks, but I can't take the credit. Hannah made it all," Ginny replied just as Willow and the guitarist from her band, Timothy Dinkley, stepped out of the fireplace grate in the sitting room. "Please, help yourselves!" Ginny called as she hurried over to greet her arriving friends. Harry joined her from where he had been straightening up his study, and glancing quickly over his shoulder, Ginny was pleased to see that he had managed to banish the piles of paperwork he had brought home.

"Willow, Timothy," Ginny said, taking Harry's hand. "We're so glad you could make it."

"Thanks for inviting us," Willow said, smiling over at them. "It's good to see you two again." She gazed about the room for a moment, taking in the brown L-shaped leather couch and end tables.

"Your place looks posh," Timothy offered.

"Thanks," Harry remarked. "Feel free to look around."

"And help yourselves to any of the refreshments," Ginny added. Willow nodded and took Timothy's arm as he guided her towards the dining room where George and Angelina stood, with heaping plates of food and cups of punch.

Ron and Hermione stepped out of the grate next and spying the food, Ron uttered a hasty 'hello' before heading straight for a tray Ginny knew contained goat cheese and mango jelly crumpets.

Hermione sighed as she greeted them before turning to Harry. "Harry, I've done a bit more research and was hoping I could have a moment?"

Ginny shook her head, scowling over at her friend, and gripping Harry's hand tighter. "Not today, Hermione. We aren't going to think about the ghost today. Go enjoy yourself and make sure your husband doesn't gorge himself on those crumpets." She looked over at Ron, who was attempting to speak with George despite the fact that his mouth was filled to bursting. Bits of the pastry flew through the air threatening to land on George's bright green dragon hide suit, and Hermione huffed her exasperation as she stomped over to her husband's side and began to berate him.

"It wouldn't be a party if Ron and Hermione weren't arguing," Harry sighed.

Ginny snorted. "We both know what they're fighting really is. If those two disappear, it's your job to inspect every cupboard, wardrobe, W.C., and bedroom. I don't want any of our friends getting an eyeful; they'd never be the same."

"Not worried about me, then?" Harry queried.

"You should be immune by now," Ginny quipped before standing on her toes to peck him on the lips. "But if you suffer ill effects, I'm sure I can think of something to take your mind off the disturbing images."

The remainder of their friends soon arrived and they parted ways for the next hour to meet, greet and show off their new home.

"Weasley!" Gwenog huffed, looking extremely annoyed and dragging Ginny away from a pleasant conversation she had been having with Harry's co-workers, Clyde and Monat. To hear them tell it, Harry had been playing matchmaker at work and they couldn't stop singing his praises. Ginny was just about to hear how Harry had pushed them together when Gwenog accosted her.

"Excuse me a moment," Ginny apologized to the two young Aurors before turning to her team captain. "Yes, Gwenog?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were good friends with Willow Starling?" Gwenog demanded, glaring at Ginny.

Ginny shrugged. "I didn't think who my friends were had anything to do with how I play Quidditch."

"The Mechanical Fairies are one of my favourite bands," Gwenog explained. "Introduce me."

"I don't even know where," Ginny began before Gwenog interrupted her. "She and Timothy Dinkley are in the sitting room, talking to Potter."

"His name is Harry, Gwenog," Ginny complained, annoyed that even when she wasn't on the Quidditch pitch, Gwenog insisted on calling everyone, whether they were players or not, by their last name.

Gwenog merely shook her head and steered Ginny towards the sitting room. Harry looked up from where he was sitting on the couch and smiled at her before returning his attention to Willow and Timothy. Willow was nestled next to Timothy on the couch and he had his arm draped casually over her shoulder. A pleasant smile graced her lips as his fingers made small circles on her arm and he explained to Harry about his new guitar that had eight strings.

Willow and Timothy had worked together playing and composing music since their second year at Hogwarts, and he was Willow's son, Nathan's, godfather. Ginny had been aware that Willow had become closer to Timothy after Colin's death, but they looked downright cosy sitting on her couch; almost like they were seeing each other cosy.

A poke in her ribs shook Ginny from her staring and she glared over at Gwenog before sitting on the arm of the couch next to Harry. He slid his arm around her waist and she couldn't help the small sigh of contentment that escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Ginny began. "I wanted to introduce Willow and Timothy to Gwenog Jones."

Willow smiled up at Gwenog who had settled on the large ottoman in front of the couple on the couch. "Hello, Gwenog. I've been to several matches, you run a tight team."

"Thanks," Gwenog stated. "I'm a big fan of yours, as well. Your music has depth."

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Willow enthused. "Timothy and I are currently working on some new songs I hope you will enjoy."

"I'm sure I will," Gwenog replied. "I'd love to know what made you decide to use such dissonant chords in your last album."

"Well, at that time I was experiencing some dramatic changes in my life," Willow began.

"Well, we'll leave you three to it," Harry said, rising and taking Ginny with him. She gazed up at him with a smile as he slipped his hand from around her waist and took her hand.

"Have you had a chance to try Hannah's punch yet?" Harry asked, leading her back across the foyer and into the dining room.

"No," Ginny complained. "I've been too busy showing our friends the house. I was having a nice conversation with Clyde and Monat before Gwenog practically shoved me into the sitting room to introduce her to Willow!"

"Oh?" Harry asked. "What were you three talking about?"

"About how you set them up," Ginny answered, looking at him. "Decided to play matchmaker, did you?"

"They're both extremely shy people who needed a push in the right direction," Harry replied, pouring her a glass of punch and handing it to her before making one for himself.

"Thanks, love," Ginny murmured, taking a sip from the glass. "Mmm, this is good, but Hannah's right, it has a punch, pardon the pun. Did you try the crumpets?"

Harry chuckled. "Afraid not. Ron ate them all."

Ginny pulled a face and was about to respond when Rachel stumbled down the stairs, dragging Josie behind her. Upon spotting Ginny and Harry, their friends headed into the dining room.

"I think Josie's had too much to drink. I found her talking to herself in the walk-in in your room, Ginny and Harry," Rachel giggled when they reached them.

"No," Josie responded slowly. "I was talking to a bloke. He was tall, dark, and handsome."

"There wasn't anyone there, Josie!" Rachel chided, shaking her head. "But, Ginny! I _did_ just see a tall, dark, and handsome man upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms. Of course, he was too busy chatting on a two-way mirror, I think." Rachel scrunched her nose up at the memory. "Yes, I suppose that was what he was doing, and he completely ignored me when I said 'hello'!

"Really?" Harry asked in surprise. "No one here is on call tonight. What did he look like exactly?"

Rachel smiled at the memory. "Well, he was tall, like I said and he had black hair, like yours, Harry, only longer, to his shoulders. He was thin and I only saw his profile. Can you introduce me, Harry?"

Harry looked as bemused as Ginny felt. "I have no idea who you are talking about, Rachel. There's no one who fits that description who works in the Auror Office. Did you just see him before coming down?"

Rachel nodded, looking disappointed. "Yes, he was just upstairs in the spare room with the blue duvet and Sleep-tight box."

Harry glanced over at Ginny. "Did he come with one of your friends, Gin?"

"No," Ginny said, shaking her head. "It's not unusual for someone outside the Auror Office to use a two-way mirror though, Harry."

"I know," he replied. "But, I think I'll have a look, for Rachel's sake. I'd hate to let an eligible bloke slip through her fingers. I'll be right back." He smiled over at Rachel who beamed back at him, but Ginny could see the worry in his eyes. Harry headed up the stairs and she watched him until he disappeared around the landing.

"What about you, Josie?" Ginny asked, turning back to her friends. "Should we look for your chap, too?"

"Oh no," Josie said. "He told me he'd look me up later." Her face blanched and she swayed on her feet. Ginny stepped forward to steady her as Rachel did the same. "I'm not feeling so well."

"I told you not to drink that last glass of punch," Rachel admonished.

"I suppose you were right," Josie admitted, and looked apologetically over at Ginny. "I'm sorry, Ginny, but I think I had better call it a night."

"Don't apologize," Ginny soothed. "Will you be all right to take the Floo?"

Josie nodded. "I didn't drink that much, no matter what Rachel says to the contrary. After Gwenog's threat today, it would have been foolish to."

"You're right about that," Ginny agreed as the three of them headed into the sitting room and the grate.

"I had fun," Josie said, taking a pinch of Floo powder. "Thanks for having me. See you two on Monday."

"All right," Ginny said. "Feel better."

"Nothing a little sleep can't fix," Josie assured, tossing the powder into the grate, stepping in, calling for her flat.

After she disappeared, Rachel grabbed Ginny's hand and dragged her back to the foyer where Harry had just returned.

"Sorry, Rachel," Harry said. "There wasn't anyone up there."

"Bugger!" Rachel exclaimed. "Maybe I _was_ imagining things."

"Have you met our friend, Dean?" Harry asked, steering Rachel into the dining room. "I think I saw him over by the punch bowl just a moment ago. Tall, dark, and handsome. Should fit the bill." Harry pointed towards the opposite side of the room, where Dean Thomas stood, chatting with Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, he is!" Rachel admired. "Thanks, Harry!"

She rushed off to join the threesome in their conversation, leaving Harry and Ginny.

"I suppose she doesn't need us to introduce her," Harry remarked.

"I think she can handle it," Ginny answered. "So, there wasn't anything upstairs, then?"

Harry shook his head, guiding her back to the foyer and looking up the empty stairway. "No. There wasn't a soul up there. I have no idea what either Josie or Rachel saw."

"Our uninvited guest, perhaps?" Ginny asked, unable to conceal the worry in her voice.

"I don't know, Gin," Harry honestly answered. "I was thorough in my search."

Ginny nodded and they dropped the subject for the remainder of the party. After Josie's departure, other guests soon began following. Not surprising, Rachel wound up leaving with Dean, sending Ginny and Harry a big grin as she stepped into the grate after him. Ron was sent home with a bag of cheese crumpets and Hannah had graciously shared the recipe with Hermione.

Harry and Ginny thanked Hannah and Neville for working so hard in providing the delicious food, and refused their offer to help with the clean-up. After everyone had departed, they decided to actually leave the mess for the morning and headed upstairs to bed. Harry insured that the Intruder Charm was active and on the way upstairs checked the three spare rooms and bath once more, but of course, found them empty.

Ginny put that mystery from her mind and instead thought back on how close Willow and Timothy had appeared to be.

"Did you notice anything unusual about Willow and Timothy tonight?" Ginny asked as she slipped into bed next to Harry.

"Not really," Harry answered. "We had a nice conversation about their upcoming album and Timothy's new guitar."

"You didn't see him with his arm around Willow?" Ginny queried.

"I suppose so," Harry said, looking over at her. "Why? Did it bother you?"

"I think it did," Ginny said truthfully, realizing as she answered Harry's question it was true, it did bother her. "She loves Colin."

"She loved Colin," he corrected her gently. "It's been four years, Gin. Did you expect her to remain alone forever?"

"She's loved Colin since we were kids!" Ginny exclaimed. "She had his son. I was surprised, that's all."

"Willow and Timothy looked happy," Harry said simply. "I don't think Colin would want Willow to be alone the rest of her life. I imagine he would want her to be happy."

Ginny eyed him speculatively. "I suppose. It just seems strange to see her with someone else. Would you see someone else if I died?"

"Well, this is a morbid conversation," Harry grumbled.

"Would you?" Ginny pressed.

"No," Harry replied. "I don't think that I would. You are irreplaceable, but if it were you, I'd want you to be happy. I'd hate to think of you wasting your life grieving."

"I couldn't do it," Ginny stated firmly.

"Stop thinking about it," Harry replied, pulling her towards him and kissing her deeply.

"I'd be lost without you," Ginny murmured against his lips.

"You're the strongest witch I've ever met," Harry whispered. "If anyone would be lost, it would be me. Now, again, stop…thinking…about…it..." He punctuated each of the last four words with a kiss to a different part of her face.

"I'd miss your kisses the most," Ginny sighed softly before giving up the conversation completely.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

_"I'll miss your kisses the most," Ginny whispered in his ear and he sighed. Ginny's kisses were like melted chocolate, sweet, warm, and rich. He'd happily drown in them if given the opportunity. The candlelight reflected off her hair, adding glimmers of gold to the fiery locks, and its gossamer strands slipped through his fingers as she pulled back. It was suddenly cold where she had once been, and reaching for her, Harry was shocked when his hands passed right through her._

_Ginny and the world swirled sickeningly around him, making his head throb and when it righted itself he was once again in the Little Hangleton cemetery, bound to the Riddle tombstone, weak and helpless, his twisted ankle aching under the stress of supporting his weight. He tried to relieve it of some of the pressure, but he couldn't move. Cedric's body lay three metres away, his lifeless eyes staring at Harry, as if asking him why he hadn't tried harder to save him. _

_"I did everything I could," Harry mumbled. "I didn't know."_

_A dark shadow fell over the corpse, masking it for a moment before morphing into the equally dead body of Lucius Malfoy. In death, his pale blue eyes lacked the hard glint they had always exhibited and Harry watched in morbid fascination as they slowly sank into their sockets, leaving gaping black holes in their stead. An intermittent hissing began from somewhere beyond the body and Harry was filled with foreboding._

_The hissing grew closer and a grotesque creature with glowing red eyes slithered over Lucius's body. It stared greedily up at Harry as it drew near and a searing pain lanced through Harry's scar, making him see stars. _

_Harry struggled in vain against the merciless ropes, determined not to be entertainment for the monster, and it began to laugh at him._

_"You will take me to the other side," the creature squealed in its high-pitched voice._

_Harry shook his head. "No," he croaked, his throat raw from screaming when Cedric died. The monster opened its mouth again, emitting a high-pitched wail that pierced through the air. Harry's ears rang with the horrendous sound. _

_Bright red and yellow light flickered across the graveyard and Harry wondered where it could possibly be coming from. Lifting his head he glanced to his right and left. It was stronger on his right and turning his neck as far as he could he saw part of the Riddle House set on the hill behind the grave he was tied to and it was in flames. He heard Ginny screaming his name and terror gripped his heart. Struggling again against his bounds, he burst free with a yell and attempted to run forward, but the ropes still bound him around his feet. He kicked with his legs and pulled with his hands trying to remove the ropes._

_"Harry!" Ginny called again. He thrashed about, attempting to crawl over the ground towards the blazing house._

"Harry!" Ginny called louder. "Stop it!"

The graveyard blurred around him, swirling before his eyes and the walls of a room took its place, and the tombstone was replaced by a wooden bed-board, and the ropes by blankets and sheets wrapped tightly around his legs. Ginny sat far away from him, staring with frightened eyes, rubbing the back of her right hand with her left. Harry realized he must have slapped her hands away in his nightmare and immediately felt guilty for hurting her even a little.

"I'm sorry," he began, but then stopped when he realized the siren from his dream was still ringing through the air. It was the Intruder Charm he had cast over the house. "How long?" he asked, grabbing his wand and glasses from the bedside table and bolting out of bed to head down the stairs.

"Just now," Ginny called, hurrying after him, with her own wand drawn.

At the foot of the stairs Harry cast _Homenum Revelio_, but somehow wasn't surprised when it came back negative. Stepping fully off the landing into the middle of the foyer, he noticed the front door standing open.

"They must have heard us and ran out the front," Ginny whispered, her hand slipping into his.

Harry nodded mutely and walked cautiously over to the door and looked out into the garden and gravel turnaround, dimly lit by the quarter moon and stars in the sky. There wasn't a sign of anyone, and the Anti-Apparition Charms around the house would have prevented anyone from escaping that quickly. Clouds scudded over the moon, diminishing the light, but Harry caught sight of a darker shadow lurking by the Austin Healey parked in the turnaround.

Tugging gently on Ginny's hand he moved towards it, attempting to tread lightly over the gravel. He kept his eyes fixed on the shape, willing it to remain stationary. He and Ginny were only a few metres away when the moon crept back out from behind the clouds, illuminating the area once again and bathing the car in its light, reflecting off the shiny black paint. Unlike the car, instead of coming into clearer focus, the hulking shape on the ground appeared to dim. Harry's heart thudded in his chest as memories of the creature from his dreams came back to him.

Pushing down the trepidation, he took another step towards the car and in that instant, the creature, or whatever the shadow was, sprang from beside the wheel well of the car and bounded over the garden towards the moor. Letting Ginny's hand go, he ran after it, cresting a small hill that afforded a view of the vast moor. It spread out around him and there was nothing else in sight. The creature had completely disappeared.


	13. Ch 12 - Child's Play

**Author's Notes: **A big thank you to my betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny for being my second and third pair of eyes. They catch a lot and make invaluable suggestions to help improve the story. Any errors that remain are my fault. I hope you all will enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

The following morning, with the light of day, Harry and Ginny trudged back outside to check the area around the Austin Healey and the course across the moor they thought the creature had departed. However, the only disturbances they could find in the gravel and grass were their own footprints from the night before. Harry heaved a sigh of frustration that Ginny echoed.

"It was windy last night," Ginny offered. "Maybe the front door wasn't latched properly and all we saw were shadows."

"I suppose," Harry mused. "But I'm starting to become tired of coming up with excuses for everything, aren't you?"

"Yes," Ginny agreed. She turned around and gazed up at the house. The early morning sun glinted off the windows and made the creamy bricks glow. It looked beautiful and peaceful, but she didn't think either Harry or she had had a decent night's rest since they had moved in. She sighed greatly and Harry put his arm around her.

"It's not the end of the world," he assured her. "We'll figure it out."

Ginny nodded. "I know. All right," she said, rubbing her arms against the morning chill. "We need to clean up the house before Andromeda arrives with Teddy."

"Leave a couple of the balloons," Harry suggested as they walked back towards the front steps. "I bet Teddy would like them."

Ginny concurred and they ate a quick breakfast before delving into tidying up the house. They managed to Banish all the trash and Ginny set the dishes to scrubbing in the sink before running upstairs to make up the bed in Teddy's room with the new sheets she had purchased.

She and Harry had arranged her bedroom furniture in the room, with her bed against the wall opposite the door. After spreading the sheets flat and shaking out the blue duvet over it, Ginny opened the drawer in the bedside table and pulled out the Sleep-Tight box to place on top. Teddy loved to watch the lights as he drifted off to sleep.

The door chime rang just as she was finishing up and she walked down the stairs in time to see Harry open the front door to admit Andromeda and Teddy. Teddy had a small bright red bag filled with his overnight things, but it immediately was flung to the side as he threw himself at Harry.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy's muffled voice came from where his face was pressed against Harry's belly.

"Hey, kiddo," Harry said, ruffling Teddy's brown hair. "Did you grow a foot since the last time I saw you?"

Teddy pulled back and looked up at Harry and then down at his feet. "Uncle Harry!" he chided. "I only have two feet!"

Harry chuckled at Teddy's literal interpretation of his statement and smiled over at Andromeda. "It's good to see you, Andromeda."

"And you, Harry," Andromeda replied warmly, looking around the foyer in admiration. "Your house is beautiful."

"Thank you," Ginny said, stepping off the stairs and scooping Teddy up into a hug. "Hey, big boy!"

"Hi, Aunt Ginny!" Teddy squealed as she tickled him before setting him back down.

"Do you have a moment for a tour before you have to leave, Andromeda?" she asked.

"I'd love one," Andromeda said.

Picking up Teddy's bag, Harry led them back upstairs where they dropped Teddy off in his room. He looked around happily at the stuffed dragon and owl on his bed, as well as the toy broom that was leaning in the corner before jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the dragon and headed towards the wardrobe where Harry and Ginny had stowed the few toys they had for when he visited. He pulled a puzzle down off the shelf and promptly sat on the floor of the wardrobe to dump it out.

Leaving him to play quietly, Harry and Ginny showed Andromeda the remainder of the house. She loved the views the most and they spent a few minutes chatting in the back garden so she could admire the moor before returning to the foyer. Teddy ran back down the stairs, dragging the dragon behind him and kissed his grandmother good-bye.

"I'll stop by tomorrow evening to collect Teddy," Andromeda informed them before she left.

"We'll be here," Ginny smiled and she, Harry, and Teddy waved good-bye as Andromeda Apparated away.

As soon as Andromeda left, Teddy begged Harry to take him outside and help him fly on the toy broom and Harry happily acquiesced. Ginny decided to stay inside and prepare a picnic lunch while they were thus occupied and sent them on their way.

She pulled bread from the pantry and prepared cold sandwiches, and then stood at the window slicing apples, watching Teddy wobble around on the broom a foot above the garden while Harry surreptitiously steadied him. Ginny knew Harry loved playing with Teddy and doing all the things he hadn't been able to do when he was a child. More than anything he wanted to make sure that Teddy grew up showered with as much love as possible. Between Andromeda, Harry, herself, and the Weasleys, Ginny had no doubt that Teddy would have a wonderful life.

Finishing up the lunch, Ginny packed it in a basket and carried it and a blanket out to the garden. Teddy's squeals of delight echoed over the moor as he flew. She spread the blanket out and set the basket down in the middle and stepped to Harry's side. Teddy zoomed around for several more minutes before coming to a shaky stop and sliding off the handle onto the ground in a heap. Both Ginny and Harry raced to his side, only to find him giggling madly. They tickled him until he had tears streaming from his eyes and was yelping for mercy.

Harry and Ginny enjoyed the remainder of the crisp fall afternoon sitting on the blanket as Teddy ran back and forth a few feet away, dragging a stick behind him and calling something about slaying a dragon. He had propped the stuffed dragon up in the grass and would take occasional swipes at it with the stick.

It was cold, even for late October, but Harry had cast some warming charms around the blanket and whenever Teddy became too cold, he ran over to them to warm up, took a sip of pumpkin juice and went right back to fighting evil dragons and wizards.

In the evening after supper they trooped back outside to lie on the blanket once again and gaze up at the stars. Harry and Ginny pointed out the different constellations to a rapt Teddy, who was overjoyed to learn that one of them happened to be the _Andromeda Gallaxy_.

After such a busy day, Teddy had fallen asleep nearly as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Ginny and Harry soon followed with Harry commenting that hopefully, they would have a night of uninterrupted sleep. However, that was not to be and the sound of Teddy's muffled screaming awoke Harry in the middle of the night. Quickly sitting up in bed, he reached for his wand and glasses and squinted at the clock on his bedside table, it was barely after three in the morning.

"Is that Teddy?" Ginny asked, sitting up as well.

"Yeah," Harry said, rising. "He must have had a nightmare or something."

He headed for the bedroom door and Ginny followed, snagging her dressing gown on the way and slipping into it as they walked down the stairs. Teddy's bedroom door was open and the bedside table lamp lit, but the room was empty.

"I think it's coming from downstairs," Ginny suggested. "It sounds closer though."

Harry nodded and walked swiftly down the last two flights of stairs to the front foyer. Teddy's screams for help were much louder. Harry waved his wand at the sconces on the wall by the hall mirror as well as the chandelier that hung from the ceiling and the foyer was bathed in warm light. He heard banging coming from the stairs and headed in that direction. He stopped short when he saw the cupboard door under the stairs shuddering.

Striding over to the door, he yanked on the knob, but the door wouldn't budge. Teddy's crying could be heard coming from the other side. Harry tried pulling on the door again, but it was immovable, as if there was something wedged in front of it, but there was nothing there.

"Why won't it open?" Ginny asked. "There isn't a lock on either side of that door."

Harry shook his head, attempting to block out the memories Teddy's cries from behind the cupboard door were drawing out, and knelt by the door.

"Teddy," he said. "It's Uncle Harry."

"Uncle Harry?" Teddy's small voice whimpered. "Will you let me out?"

"The door's jammed," Harry explained. "Can you sit as far away from it as you can?"

"It's dark in here," Teddy cried. "I'm scared!"

"I know," Harry answered. "But I need to break the door down in order to get you out. Can you do as I asked?"

"All right," Teddy sniffled and Harry could hear him shuffling inside the cupboard to move away from the door. "I've moved."

Harry stood up and aimed his wand at the door. "Be careful, Harry," Ginny whispered. He nodded and quietly voiced '_Reducto_' while gently waving his wand towards the door. The door splintered in its frame and fell to the floor. Teddy immediately sprang out from behind the pile of wood and straight into Harry's arms, sobbing.

"It's all right," Harry murmured, kneeling with the little boy in his arms and rubbing his back. "You're all right now."

"I couldn't get out!" Teddy wailed.

"Why did you go in there in the first place?" Harry asked. "You should be asleep."

"Tom said it would be fun," Teddy answered and Harry froze, sensing Ginny's own shock from behind him. "It wasn't though. It was scary and dark!"

Harry pulled Teddy away from him so he could look him in the eyes. "Who's Tom, Teddy?"

"My friend," Teddy replied. "He's played with me all day. He's very nice."

"Did Tom wake you up and tell you to come down here?" Harry asked.

Teddy nodded. "He said you used to play in cupboards, and I want to be just like you."

Harry gazed at his godson for a moment before pulling him back into a tight hug, not knowing what to say. Ginny knelt beside them, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders and pecking Teddy on the head.

"Oh, Teddy," she softly said. "You're a dear, sweet boy."

Teddy squirmed in Harry's arms, uncomfortable with all the sudden affection. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm still scared."

"Of course," Harry said and stood, hefting Teddy in his arms.

"Uncle Harry, I'm not a baby!" Teddy balked. "I'm a big boy! I don't need to be carried."

"Oh, sorry," Harry uttered and put Teddy down immediately, but smiled when his godson slipped his small hand in his.

Harry headed up the stairs with Teddy while Ginny extinguished the lights in the chandelier, but left the wall sconces to burn. She followed quickly behind them, and Harry sensed she was not particularly keen on the idea of being left alone at the moment. He didn't blame her. He still had a lot of unanswered questions regarding Teddy's imaginary friend, but it was late and they were all tired.

Laying Teddy down in the middle of the bed, he and Ginny climbed in on either side of him and drew the covers up for him. Teddy immediately snuggled into the pillow and closed his eyes. Ginny lay on her side and gazed a question at Harry over Teddy's head. He looked back and shrugged, which caused her eyes to harden in a way he knew meant she was not through with him yet.

"We'll talk more tomorrow, all right?" Harry whispered.

She nodded, but watched him closely for a long time until her eyes drifted shut. Harry watched her and Teddy sleep, waiting for the now elusive sleep to claim him as well, but his mind was too busy throwing images at him to cooperate. Teddy flipped and flopped quite a bit in his sleep and Harry figured he would have difficultly regardless of whether his mind was racing or not. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dance across it.

It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Teddy's new imaginary friend was named Tom, and had suggested to the boy that Harry used to spend a lot of time in a cupboard. Harry had never mentioned his childhood to Teddy and had thought he had put all of that behind him. It annoyed him how close to the surface all those memories were and how easily they had come back to him when he heard Teddy's pleas to be let out. Harry's heart clenched within his chest and he ground his teeth in frustration.

_"Let me out!" four-year-old Harry screamed, uselessly banging his small fists against the door._

_"The more you yell, boy," the angry voice of his uncle sounded from behind the door. "The longer you'll stay in there! This will teach you to hurt my son."_

_"I didn't DO anything!" Harry cried, not understanding what his uncle was talking about. Dudley had been torturing Harry – sitting on him, punching him in the side, while his uncle sat there and read the Sunday paper. His uncle and Dudley referred to these episodes as 'wrestling', and Dudley's preferred version of wrestling involved sitting on Harry and punching him in the ribs. Invariably his sides would be bruised for days after. Try as he might, Harry could not fight back, for he was far smaller than Dudley and once his cousin had his weight on him it was all Harry could do to keep breathing. _

_Today had been much of the same until all of sudden he was lying there, Dudley free. Sitting up slowly to see what had caused his cousin's sudden departure, he saw Dudley sprawled on the floor behind the settee. A moment later the howling began as Dudley sat up and yelled that Harry had thrown him across the room._

_Harry had been frozen to his spot, staring at his cousin, when his uncle's hand had grabbed him around the neck and pulled him forcibly up. Without so much as a word, he had hauled Harry down the hall and thrown him into the dark cupboard, slamming it shut and shoving the hall table in front of it to keep Harry from getting out._

_"It's dark in here!" Harry wailed in one final attempt to appeal to his uncle._

_"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia called from over Harry's head through the floor. "What is going on down there?"_

_"I'll tell you what!" Uncle Vernon spat. "That freak threw Dudley half-way across the sitting room!"_

_"That's impossible, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said, fear lacing her voice._

_"I saw it happen with my own eyes," Uncle Vernon replied. "I shut him up in the cupboard where he can't hurt us and I'm going to the hardware store and buying a lock for the door."_

_"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia gasped. "You can't – they'll know!"_

_Uncle Vernon harshly laughed. "We haven't seen any sign of them in three years! They aren't going to know anything. Dudley!"_

_Dudley's footsteps pounded down the hall and not long after the front door slammed shut leaving the house in relative quiet. Harry stared into the dark, trying to see anything, and wondering if he should call to his aunt, who, as far as he could tell hadn't moved from her spot above him._

_"Aunt Petunia?" he plaintively called. She didn't respond. "Aunt Petunia, please let me out. I'm scared of the dark."_

_The silence was deafening in Harry's ears, he strained to hear if perhaps she was making her way down the stairs, but he heard nothing. Then her shoe scuffed against the stairway wall and he heard her walking slowly back up the stairs and then nothing._

Something was poking him in the back and he felt precariously close to falling off the bed. Harry cracked his eyes open to see faint greyish sunlight filtering in from around the bedroom window curtains and realized he must have fallen asleep after all. Attempting to roll over onto his back, he hit the solid wall of Teddy's little body and with a groan sat up on the side of the bed instead. Glancing over his shoulder he saw that Ginny was sound asleep with her back to him, and plenty of room to spread out, while Teddy had gradually rolled his way over onto Harry's side of the bed.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry reached for his glasses and put them on, bringing the room into sharp focus. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting to fully wake up and shoved the remnants of his dream away, instead thinking about some of the things Teddy had said last night about his imaginary friend, which wasn't much, really. Harry was anxious to question him further, but that would probably have to wait until breakfast.

Quietly standing up, he yawned and stretched, and then silently slipped out of the bedroom into the dressing room. He stopped in the bathroom to use the toilet and to splash cold water on his face in another attempt to chase the remaining fatigue away. Harry had a feeling it was going to be a losing battle. Looking at himself in the mirror, the dark circles under his eyes made his skin look paler than it already was and his hair was in disarray, but he didn't have the energy to try to tame it and gave it up as a bad job. Instead he headed down to the first floor and stopped in Teddy's room to have a look around.

The covers of the single bed were falling off, as was usual when Teddy slept over. No matter how well Ginny tucked them in at the foot of the bed, Teddy always somehow managed to pull them out and by the end of the night they usually were in a pile on the floor. Sometimes, Harry had found the child with his feet on the pillow and his head at the foot of the bed. He wasn't quite sure how Teddy managed that or how it could even be comfortable, but the child never seemed to mind.

Floating in a corner of the room were the balloons from the party they had saved for Teddy to play with. He had insisted on using them as a nightlight instead of the Sleep-Tight box that sat on the bedside table. The fairy lights flickered dimly within the balloons, but even in the bright sunlight, Harry could tell their power was waning

Stepping over to the wardrobe, he opened the door and looked inside. Other than the few stuffed animals, toys, and games that sat on the floor and shelves, the wardrobe was empty. He wasn't sure what he had expected to find. It wasn't like an invisible imaginary friend would be sitting inside the closet waiting for Harry to discover him and introduce himself.

Harry shut the wardrobe door and walked out of the room and down to the ground floor. On his way to his study, he stopped in the kitchen to fill the kettle and set it on the stove to boil. Alithea was dozing on her perch when Harry entered the study, but sensing his presence in her sleep aroused quickly and hooted a 'hello', which Harry returned.

Opening the top drawer of his desk, Harry pulled out a few treats and placed them in Alithea's tray and the owl wasted little time devouring them. Harry settled into his chair and pulled his leather satchel onto his lap. He half-heartedly looked through a few reports he had brought home, but they were the usual run-of-the-mill cases that would take little time to complete.

He heard Ginny come down the stairs and begin to rummage around in the kitchen cupboards. Standing, Harry stretched and walked down the short hallway to stand in the kitchen doorway. Ginny had wrapped her white fleece dressing gown dotted in tiny pink roses tightly around herself, and was standing on her tiptoes trying to reach the bowls in the cupboard. With a puff of exasperation, she withdrew her wand and waved it at the bowls instead, and they floated towards the kitchen table.

"Harry," she called. "Is porridge all right for breakfast? I don't feel up to cooking this morning."

"That's fine with me," he replied, startling her and causing her wand to waver and the bowls to drop on the floor.

"Bugger!" Ginny shouted. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" she chided him as she waved her wand at the bowls, repairing them as they flew over to the table.

"Sorry," Harry said. "I thought you knew I had come in."

Ginny smiled over at him apologetically. "I'm just a little on edge over Teddy. What do you think really possessed him to wander around in the middle of the night?"

"I don't know," Harry answered. "Kids do crazy things. Ron, Hermione, and I used to wander around Hogwarts all the time."

"And you got into all sorts of trouble," Ginny reminded him. "I'll concede that point to you, but why couldn't he open the cupboard door? Why couldn't you?"

"It was jammed somehow," Harry told her, remembering how it had felt as if something was holding the door in place, like a table, only there wasn't anything there.

Ginny nodded, clearly contemplating the early morning events and hesitated before she gently spoke again. "Have you ever mentioned your time with the Dursleys to him?"

"Of course not," Harry stated firmly. "He doesn't need to know about that now or ever."

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny compassionately said. "I know you don't like talking about it, but I could tell finding Teddy locked in the cupboard affected you before he even mentioned his imaginary friend telling him you used to play in them. I'm just trying to suss out how Teddy knew."

"Maybe Andromeda knows something about it from Tonks," Harry mused. "I don't know, but you are right, it bothered me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ginny tentatively asked.

"What's there to talk about?" Harry asked, annoyed with himself for suddenly feeling angry to have to confront old demons that should remain buried. "My aunt and uncle locked me in a cupboard because they were afraid of me. End of story."

"That's the only reason why they did it?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Or because I was bad, or looked at them the wrong way or at all, or burnt the toast, or…" Harry railed. "Or, I don't know. They just did."

Ginny's eyes flared with unconcealed anger. "You have no idea how much I would love to pay them a visit, Harry."

Harry snorted. "Believe me, I do, but it wouldn't do any good, and I got over it a long time ago."

"Until last night," Ginny remarked candidly, stepping towards him, but waiting for him to accept the hug Harry knew she wanted to give him. He hated talking about his childhood, most especially with Ginny because while he didn't think she pitied him, he didn't like knowing how it made her feel. There was nothing she could do or could have done at the time. What was the sense in feeling guilty over something she couldn't change or because she had been loved unconditionally as a child when he had not?

Apparently, the love his parents must have showered on him the first year of his life had been more than enough to see him through the lean years. That had to count for something, even if he couldn't remember anything about that time and only had a handful of pictures to document that his parents had indeed existed and loved him.

"My parents loved me," he said, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her. She sighed against him and hugged him fiercely. "And you love me. That's all that matters."

"And my parents, Ron and Hermione, Bill, Fleur, and Victoire, George, Teddy, even stuffy old Percy and Audrey, and the list goes on and on, Harry," Ginny reminded him.

Harry nodded and enjoyed her embrace a moment longer before pulling away. "Now, what I really want to get to the bottom of is Teddy's imaginary friend when he comes down for breakfast."

"You know kids make up imaginary friends," Ginny explained, turning away to prepare the porridge so it would be ready when Teddy woke up.

"I suppose," Harry mused. "It's the name that bothers me the most."

Ginny nodded, but refrained from commenting further and Harry poured them some tea while she finished up the breakfast. She placed the steaming bowl of porridge on the table along with a pitcher of milk, a plate of butter, a jar of honey, and the sugar bowl.

Harry retrieved a bottle of pumpkin juice from the pantry and three glasses and had just settled at the table with Ginny when Teddy made his way down to the kitchen. He looked fresh and ready to face the day, as only a five-year-old can, even after a broken night of sleep. Teddy smiled broadly at them and scrambled into a seat, helping himself to porridge and adding everything Ginny had set out into the bowl before stirring it all up with his spoon and taking a satisfied bite.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the show and didn't want to think what all that sugar was going to do in about twenty minutes time. He foresaw another day running in the garden in his near future. However, first and foremost he wanted to get a little more information out of his godson before the sugar high kicked in and any hope of a decent answer was lost.

"Teddy," Harry began after the boy had swallowed several mouthfuls of porridge. "I'd like to hear more about your imaginary friend. Did he come with you from your house?"

"No," Teddy said. "I met him in the garden yesterday."

"You did?" Ginny asked quietly and Harry glanced over at her. She suddenly looked pale beneath her mane of red hair.

"Yes, he told me he likes to visit you, too," Teddy replied.

"Where does Tom stay when he visits? In your room?" Harry asked.

Teddy shook his head. "No, Uncle Harry. He stays in the attic."

"The attic?" Ginny asked.

"Uh huh," Teddy nodded. "He likes to hide in the trunks and boxes up there. He tried to make me go up there and hide in them, too, but I told him I was scared."

"That was a good thing to say," Harry said. "The attic is not a safe place to play."

"What does Tom look like, Teddy?" Ginny asked. "Does he look like the Tom who owns the Leaky Cauldron?"

Teddy giggled at this question. "Aunt Ginny, you're funny! Tom the barman is old! My friend is like you and Uncle Harry."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, gazing at Teddy intently.

"He has dark hair like you, Uncle Harry, but brown eyes like Aunt Ginny," Teddy explained and then rushed excitedly on. "He says he's your friend, too, and tells me stories about when he used to play with you. They sound really exciting! Like when you fought the giant snake together and saved Aunt Ginny! How come you've never told me that story, Uncle Harry?"

Ginny's sharp intake of breath caused Harry to tear his horrified gaze away from his godson and over to his stricken wife. She stared back at him with terror etched on her face, gripping the edge of the table and digging her nails into the soft wood. He rested a reassuring hand upon hers and turned back to Teddy who was looking at them in confusion.

"Why do you look so scared?" he asked.

Harry attempted a smile. "Do I? I was scared for you last night."

"Are you mad at me?" Teddy asked in a suddenly small voice.

"No, Teddy," Harry said, shaking his head sincerely to let the boy know he meant what he said. "Thank you for telling us about Tom. I'm going to run upstairs to check on something really quick and then I'll be right back."

Ginny shook her head mutely at him and he repeated more firmly. "I'll be right back. Stay here and finish your breakfast."

Harry left the kitchen at a normal pace so as not to upset Teddy any further than he already was, but as soon as he was down the passage and out of sight, he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the wardrobe in the master bedroom. Staring up at the trapdoor over his head, Harry hesitated briefly before grabbing the rope and tugging the ladder down.

Climbing the ladder, Harry stepped up into the attic and gazed about, but there was nothing to see with his eyes except the trunks and boxes piled there. Pulling out his wand Harry turned a slow circle in the centre of the attic, making a sweep of the entire space.

"_Phantasma revelio_," Harry whispered in the dim and dusty attic. The white field floated out of his wand and over the area before returning to him just as white. He didn't understand how that could possibly be.

Harry angrily flicked his wand at each and every trunk in the attic, raising the lids. He searched them all, as well as the boxes, and came up empty handed, finding nothing but scraps of paper remaining from fragile items that had been wrapped for protection and a few empty smaller boxes within the larger ones. A flash caught his eye when he glanced in the bottom of his old school trunk, but upon closer examination, he realized it was merely the jagged piece of the two-way mirror Sirius had given him. He slammed the lids of the trunks down in frustration and stalked around the perimeter of the attic, shining his wand light into every nook and cranny, but there was nothing in the attic that shouldn't be there.

"Tom," Harry said forcefully to the empty air. "Leave Teddy alone."

It felt like the atmosphere in the attic was taunting him with a silly game of Nanny Nanny Boo Boo and Harry felt foolish. He climbed back down the ladder and pushed the door closed above his head. Contemplating it a moment he raised his wand and sealed the door. Even so, there was no guarantee that it would work a hundred percent, since until a ghost was permanently bound to its place of death it could follow them wherever they went.


	14. Ch 13 - Too Close to Home

**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to Arnel and seeker's_destiny for their hard work in betaing. I couldn't have put this story together without them. I hope you all will enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny hadn't wanted to go into work the following morning, but Harry had promised her he would send word if anything happened. After he had returned from investigating the attic, they hadn't wasted any time packing up Teddy's overnight bag and one for themselves and departing Wildebrook.

Before leaving, Ginny had sent a Patronus to Kreacher to inform him of their imminent arrival to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher usually resided at Hogwarts, where he still worked, but always returned to Grimmauld Place when Harry and Ginny chose to stay there. Harry had sent Alithea off with a letter to Andromeda apprising her of the change of plans. They hadn't wanted to risk sending a Patronus, since she may have been in the company of Muggles; but Alithea had been discreet enough that she didn't raise any alarm.

Andromeda had, understandably, been perplexed as to why they had decided to visit Grimmauld Place on such short notice and Harry and Ginny had decided they needed to tell her the truth. To say the elder witch had been shaken would have been an understatement, but after they had assured her no permanent harm had come to Teddy, she had calmed down. Plus, Teddy's enthusiastic retelling of the thrilling flight in the Austin Healey was enough to confirm that the whole encounter with his imaginary friend was already a distant memory.

After Andromeda had left with Teddy, Ginny and Harry had spent the better part of the evening conversing with Hermione and Ron, who had come over as soon as Harry had called. Hermione had informed them that she had concluded her research and they would not only have to procure an item of Tom's, but also gain permission from the Ministry of Magic to perform the Binding Ritual. This had been disheartening news, as that meant convincing Kingsley of their issue, which Harry had said may prove difficult.

He explained that neither Kingsley nor Robards had taken much stock in Malfoy's claims that he was being haunted by Voldemort. Also, as far as anyone was concerned, Lucius Malfoy's life had been taken by a deranged guard. However, Harry had further explained that taking in Draco Malfoy's account of how he thought his guard had been controlled, and now Teddy's imaginary friend, he was beginning to wonder if perhaps the guard had been possessed after all.

Harry had looked over at Ginny when he stated this, and firmly taken her hand in his own; a quiet assurance that he would do everything in his power to see that no one else suffered a similar fate. All the same, Ginny had tossed and turned all night, grey memories of her time under the spell of the diary flashing before her mind's eye and making sleep all but impossible for her and Harry.

They gave up entirely just before dawn and crept down to the kitchen, where Kreacher already awaited them with steaming cups of tea. She had gratefully accepted the cup and sat at the table, sipping the tea, blearily watching Harry look over all the paperwork he had brought home, as well as his Order of Merlin.

The evidence was thin, he had said, and he had little hope that Kingsley would believe him, even being a close friend. Harry had suspected he may have to call in numerous favours the Ministry still owed him, which he was wont to do. Ginny knew he was afraid they would think the strain of living under the microscope of the press all these years had finally taken its toll on him. He had left soon after, hoping to meet with Hermione and review everything one final time.

Ginny had left not long after, her body dragging, and she was definitely not in the mood for the cheerful chit-chat of her friends when she arrived at the stadium. She listened to them prattle on about the party and how much fun it had been, and nodded, keeping a tight smile plastered on her face. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice her hesitancy except Rachel, but Ginny didn't have a chance to explain anything to her friend before Gwenog entered the pitch and ordered everyone to their brooms.

They spent the first hour warming up, flying up and down the pitch. It was mindless and Ginny welcomed the monotony. She allowed her mind to drift, enjoying the cool breeze on her face and attempted to shove unwelcome thoughts of Tom, Malfoy, abandoned Wildebrook, and all things unpleasant to deep, dark corners of her brain. However, again flashes of Tom from her first year kept running through her brain, when he had been pleasant and seemingly understanding; a handsome boy who appeared to sympathize with her lonely plight. The idea that he had preyed upon innocent, defenceless Teddy was nearly more than she could bear. The thought that he could possibly possess someone again, perhaps even herself, made her want to retch.

She raised her right hand to her mouth and attempted to force the bile rising in her throat back down. She wobbled unsteadily on her broom and narrowly avoided being blindsided by a Bludger Gwenog had just shot towards the Beaters. Gwenog wasted little time in berating her, and Ginny shook her head to clear it, determined she was not going to allow memories of Tom to distract her.

She gazed up at the sun and calculated that from its position in the sky it must be nearing eleven o'clock and still she hadn't heard anything from Harry. Surely, he must have spoken with Kingsley by now and taken the steps towards ridding them of Tom's ghost. Pushing it from her mind, she focused on her broom and staying aloft long enough to make it through the wretched practice.

After warm-ups, Gwenog announced that they would be playing a match against each other with the reserves taking up various positions on each team. Ginny wanted to scream in frustration, as the last thing she wanted to do was focus on actually playing a match. She shot a glare towards her captain, wondering if the only reason Gwenog was subjecting them to this torture was because of her catching Ginny off-guard moments before.

"It's an effective way of making you work harder," Gwenog forcibly reminded the players, sending Ginny a pointed look. "Not to mention there are times when the reserves have to play for an injured or sick member."

Biting her tongue to refrain from telling Gwenog where she could shove the Quaffle she held under her arm, Ginny focused on her team, which was comprised of one reserve Chaser, a Beater, and a Seeker, with her fellow teammates Chaser Anaïs, Keeper Claress, and Beater Ella playing their normal positions. Chaser Rachel, Beater Josie, and Seeker McKinley were on the opposing team with four reserves.

Ginny knew her team held the advantage with the four seasoned players, two of which were Chasers. She and Anaïs quickly walked their reserve through the basic plays they preferred to use, and flew several laps up and down the pitch tossing a Quaffle between them before Gwenog blew her whistle signalling the match was to begin.

Ginny barrel-rolled down the pitch through the oncoming opposing Beaters, Josie and her reserve, the Bludgers they had aimed towards her whizzing harmlessly past her head and shoulders. Raising the Quaffle in her right hand she threw it high in the air, watching it arc just out of reach of the reserve Keeper and spin directly through the centre of the middle ring. Ginny imagined the roar of the fans ringing in her ears as she turned her broom around and her eyes automatically strayed to Anaïs, who grinned broadly.

Ella whooped, and exchanged a grin with her partner as they batted a Bludger between them, chasing down Rachel, who had captured the Quaffle and was attempting to score a goal. Ginny raced after her, closely followed by Anaïs, and their reserve.

Then Ella effectively marred Rachel's aim and the Quaffle bounced off the ring and into Anaïs' waiting hands. She immediately threw it to Ginny who tucked it under her arm and headed back towards their goal.

She zig-zagged down the pitch, avoiding the opposing Chasers who attempted to steal the Quaffle from her. Raising her arm to throw the ball, the shrieking sound of a Bludger reached Ginny's ears moments before she felt it slam in the middle of her back. The force of the blow shoved her forward on her broom and Ginny dropped the Quaffle as she grabbed at the handle with both hands to stop her momentum. The wood burned the palms of her hands as it slid through them and she grimaced from the sudden pain. Her broom dipped towards the ground as her weight shifted to the front and she attempted to slow her momentum to keep from crashing.

Distantly she could hear Gwenog blowing her whistle, calling an end to the scrimmage and screaming at both Ginny and Josie, the Beater who had hit the Bludger. Reaching the pitch, Ginny stumbled off the broom and rolled onto her back, staring up at the blue sky. Attempting to catch her breath, she closed her eyes against the bright sun. The thump of feet hitting the ground sounded and rushed towards her. Someone knelt near her and placed the palm of their hand against her forehead.

"Ginny, are you all right?" Rachel's voice anxiously asked from nearby.

Ginny nodded, cracking her eyes open to gaze up into her friend's worried blue ones. "I just…need to catch my…breath." Behind Rachel, stood Anaïs, looking equally concerned.

Gwenog strode over and glared down at them. "Give her some room!" Her friends scattered back as Gwenog shooed them away and she knelt in Rachel's place. "Dammit, Weasley, you nearly had yourself killed! You've been off all morning! Are you all right?"

"Yes!" Ginny answered through gritted teeth.

Gwenog's brow furrowed in doubt as she stared at her, but Josie's tremulous voice came from above Ginny's head.

"Ginny, I'm so sorry!" Josie exclaimed, her voice tinged with extreme dismay. "I have no idea what happened! I couldn't see…the sun…" She trailed off, unable to articulate the cause.

"Shut it, Barker!" Gwenog spat. "You weren't much better than Weasley up there! What were you thinking?"

"I don't," Josie's voice faltered and she looked amongst her teammates in confusion.

"Just go!" Gwenog exclaimed. "You're useless today! Go home!" She turned her attention back to Ginny. "You, too, Weasley."

"Back off, Gwenog!" the team Healer shouted, having just arrived behind her.

Gingerly sitting up, Ginny waved them all away, but winced as a sharp pain lanced across her back. She stretched slightly, placing her hand at the small of her back to assess the damage.

"Let me," the Healer, Deborah Factor said, batting Ginny's hands away. She was an ex-Harpie from the late seventies who had studied the medical arts after she retired from the sport. She was nearly six feet tall, with her platinum blonde hair cropped close to her head framing black horn-rimmed glasses. She was tough and no-nonsense just like Gwenog and she pursed her lips as she pressed along Ginny's lower back.

"Let's get you to the examination room where I can assess the damage more thoroughly," Deborah finally said after a few more moments of prodding. "Think you can walk?"

Ginny nodded, and with Deborah's help managed to rise to a standing position. Her back protested, but she was happy to note that at least her legs were functioning and there didn't seem to be any permanent damage. Following after the Healer, she left her teammates with a shaky grin.

"What happened?" Deborah asked as they entered the examination room.

"I wasn't paying attention," Ginny answered. "I took a Bludger to my back."

"Josie?" Deborah asked in surprise.

"She said she couldn't see," Ginny replied.

Deborah nodded and handed Ginny a robe. "Undress and put this on, so I can see what the bruising is like."

"Honestly, Deborah," Ginny balked. "I'm all right."

"Are you a Healer?" Deborah asked sarcastically. "Undress. I'm going to retrieve your chart from my office and then I will be back."

Deborah sent Ginny one final look indicating that she expected Ginny to do as she was told and left the room. With a sigh, Ginny removed her robes and draped them over a chair in the corner. The pain in her back had subsided some, but as she began to remove her jersey, pain burned briefly in her left side and was followed by abdominal cramping similar to what she felt each month. She paused, squeezing her left side with her hand before pulling her jersey the rest of the way off and tossing it onto the chair.

She decided to use the loo before Deborah returned and peeled her boots and leggings off, leaving them in a pile by the chair before entering the W.C. When she pulled down her knickers, Ginny was dismayed to see spots of blood and heaved another sigh. Dealing with her monthly was bad enough without having to deal with it and a Quidditch injury as well. Finishing up, she grabbed what she needed from a shelf over the toilet and headed back out to the examination room where she pulled on the robe Deborah had given her. She had just settled on the table when Deborah re-entered the room holding Ginny's file.

The Healer flipped through the file for a moment, before placing it on the counter next to the table Ginny was seated on. Deborah pulled a quill from her pocket and looked over at Ginny. "So, tell me exactly where it hurts, Ginny."

"Some pain in my lower back and sides," Ginny explained, as her abdomen cramped with another wave of pain. "My abdomen as well, but I think it's my monthly. It's usually not this bad."

Deborah nodded, scribbling in the file before laying the quill aside. "All right, lie on your side; let me check your back first."

Ginny complied and when she was prone, Deborah pressed gently along Ginny's spine. "I can't feel any fractures, which is good." She withdrew her wand and waved it over Ginny's side and back. "Deep bruising, which may cause you some discomfort for a few days, but I can give you a potion to dull the pain." Deborah trailed off as she moved her wand over Ginny's abdomen, paused and then waved it one more time. The Healer's normally stoic face paled and her eyes flicked nervously up to Ginny.

"What's wrong?" Ginny breathed.

"Ginny," Deborah began. "You need to be seen by a Healer at St Mungo's immediately. Do you have a personal Healer?"

Ginny nodded. "Healer Banner. Am I going to be out? Gwenog will have a fit…"

Deborah placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'll deal with Gwenog."

"What's wrong with me, Deborah?" Ginny whispered.

Deborah's face fell further and Ginny knew whatever it was must be bad, because the Healer was one of the toughest people she knew. "I think you are having a miscarriage, Ginny," Deborah said softly. "But it's not my field of expertise. You need to be seen by a specialist."

Ginny felt like a rug had just been pulled out from under her and she was falling. She covered her mouth in horror as Deborah's words sunk in and shook her head. "No, no, no, that's impossible."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

"I'm sorry, Harry," Kingsley said, sitting behind his large, polished oak desk and turning Harry's Order of Merlin over in his hands. "I need more proof than your medal and the tale of a little boy and his imaginary friend named Tom."

"What about the nightmares and Malfoy insists that his guard was controlled somehow," Harry pressed.

"It's no secret that you have suffered extreme trauma in your life, Harry, and that would cause anyone to have nightmares from time to time," Kingsley said rationally. "As for Malfoy's guard, this isn't the first time we have had an Azkaban guard lose his mind. I need more proof before I can allow you to perform a binding that could potentially turn Hogwarts upside down. Where would the students and faculty eat if we bind Voldemort's spirit to the Great Hall?"

"Someone else could die!" Harry insisted.

"Robards informs me you have been working extremely hard lately, Harry," Kingsley said, ignoring Harry's outburst, "on your recent potions dealer case and now Lucius' murder, even though that case has been closed by your partner. Perhaps, you need a break."

"I don't need a break," Harry fumed. "I need to stop the demon that is harassing me and my wife."

Kingsley gazed over at him calmly. "Listen, Harry. I need to do a bit of research on my own before I can possibly sign off on a Binding Ritual, especially one of the magnitude you are suggesting. Do you have any idea what this would do to the Wizarding world if word of this got out?"

"Of course, I have thought about that," Harry said in exasperation. "I tried to take care of it on my own, because I thought it was a simple poltergeist. Now I think otherwise, and I came to you because you are my friend, I trust you, and all I need is your signature, Kingsley."

"I wish it were that simple," Kingsley replied, looking truly apologetic. "Please, let me contact Minerva and speak with her. Other arrangements will have to be made regarding the Great Hall, just in case. Not to mention that I will also have to grant Hermione and possibly you and Ginny, if you insist on being there, access to the Horcrux Room."

Harry involuntarily shuddered at the mention of the Horcrux room. He had wanted to destroy all the Horcruxes outright, but the Ministry in its infinite wisdom decided that adding a room in the Department of Mysteries was a much better solution. Nagini's skeleton and the five other Horcruxes were all locked away in a cabinet, and the main reason given had been that several of the Horcruxes had been valuable artefacts of the founders of Hogwarts. However, Harry knew the real reason was that there were certain members in the Department of Mysteries who were fascinated by the morbidity of the Horcuxes and wanted to study the remains. Harry supposed if the truth ever came out that he had been a Horcrux as well, he may very well find himself locked in a box for study.

As it was, the Horcrux Room was the easiest solution to obtaining a possession of Tom's, namely his original wand, which had been retrieved from the vault in Malfoy Manor after the Battle of Hogwarts. The Ministry had promptly snapped it to symbolize taking back the evil wizard's power and placed it in the Horcrux Room, as well. Hermione planned on using it in the ritual, but the wand would be completely destroyed in the process. Harry knew Kingsley was simply trying to look out for Harry's and his own back.

"In the meantime," Kingsley continued, looking at Harry with obvious concern, "maybe you should take the day off, Harry, and relax. Whatever the issue is, we will resolve it."

"Please do not patronize me, Kingsley," Harry said, allowing the annoyance to seep into his voice. "I know you think I've gone round the bend, but just remember what happened when Fudge refused to believe me." He didn't say it as a threat, but as a matter of fact. Harry was older and wiser now, and even if it did turn out that this was not Tom, but just a poltergeist, he was not going to let it spiral out of control before doing something about it. "One day. I want to take care of this tomorrow at the latest."

"I can have things in order by then," Kingsley agreed, and Harry knew his friend was placating him, but he didn't care. He also knew he had played all the favours the Ministry owed him, but it didn't matter as long as Ginny could rest easy.

Bidding Kingsley good-bye, Harry headed toward the lifts, debating whether he should stop by and inform Hermione they would have to wait another day. He had left her reading over the rite in a musty book entitled _Ancient Binding Rituals for Ghosts and Humans_ and she had been making a list of the items she would need. An inter-office memo would probably suffice, and that reminded him that he was supposed to let Ginny know how the meeting with Kingsley had gone. Glancing down at his watch, he thought she was probably in the middle of practice and wouldn't receive the message until later, so he decided to head back to his office and take care of a few things beforehand.

When Harry entered the reception area of the Auror Offices, he noticed a vaguely familiar blonde witch sitting on one of the benches. He was trying to place her when Monat approached him from around her desk and handed him a small stack of unfolded paper airplane memos. Harry quickly looked through them and grimaced when he saw that one was from Robards requesting him to report to his office as soon as he had returned. Harry had to wonder if Kingsley had already sent a message to Robards informing him that his best Auror may be in need of a leave of absence.

Harry crumpled the memo up in his hand and shoved it angrily into his pocket.

"Harry," Monat said tentatively. "Astoria Greengrass is here and would like to speak with you as soon as possible." She indicated the witch behind Harry, who was now standing and looking over at him expectantly.

As soon as Monat mentioned her name, Harry remembered exactly who Astoria was. She had been two years behind him at Hogwarts, Sorted into Slytherin, and was the younger sister of Daphne Greengrass. Other than that, he hadn't paid much attention to her as, compared to her sister, she had been a meek little girl who hadn't caused any trouble. Daphne, on the other hand, had been part of Pansy Parkinson's gang of cretins along with Millicent Bulstrode and had harassed Ginny, Luna, and anyone else who crossed them during their seventh year.

Harry couldn't fathom what Astoria could possibly want with him and would like nothing more than to brush her off, asking her to make an appointment for another day. However, he decided that taking the meeting would put off the undesirable confrontation he knew was in store for him when he went to see Robards.

"Monat, please inform the Head Auror that I will see him as soon as I finish up with this meeting," Harry informed his assistant before turning his full attention to Astoria to ask politely, "Miss Greengrass, what can I do for you today?"

Astoria took a step towards him and Harry couldn't help but notice how she looked tentatively around before speaking. "Is there somewhere we could speak in private, Auror Potter?"

"Of course," Harry answered. "If you follow me, we can meet in my office."

They walked down the corridor in silence and Astoria's nervousness was palpable. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see her looking about with wide-eyes and she clutched her small handbag to her stomach as a shield. Reaching his office, Harry held the door open for her and indicated the chair across from his desk, where Astoria perched on the edge like a bird.

"There's no need to be nervous," Harry lightly said in an attempt to ease her nerves as he moved around his desk to sit, "Unless you've committed a crime."

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked over at him, but seeing his smile, she visibly relaxed. "I'm sorry. Being here does make me nervous. I can't imagine you have very many former Slytherins asking to see you."

"Until lately, no, I can't say that I have," Harry conceded, pulling out a report parchment and a quill, dipping the quill in his ink bottle and writing the date and his name at the top of the form.

"You are speaking of Draco, I assume?" Astoria asked.

Harry didn't bother to disguise his grimace as he glanced up from the form on his desk and over at Astoria. "I wasn't aware that Malfoy was involved with you."

"I visit him every week; we've become friends," Astoria admitted. "He confides in me."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Has he 'confided' anything in you that you think I should know?"

"He told me he that he informed you he has been having visions of the Dark Lord, but that you don't believe him," Astoria said.

"I never said I didn't believe him, only that I had some doubts," Harry said, unable to keep the hint of exasperation from his voice.

"You and Draco don't have the best history," Astoria began, causing Harry to snort with mirth, but she continued undeterred. "I know it must be difficult for you to believe anything he says."

"He's never been helpful in the past," Harry admitted.

"He's worried for me," Astoria explained, her cheeks colouring at the admission. "He told me that the Dark Lord has visited him in his cell and demanded Draco bring you to him or I'd be killed."

Harry frowned. "Malfoy never told me that."

"I think he was afraid to," Astoria said. "Because Draco thinks by calling you out to Azkaban he's already done the Dark Lord's bidding."

"So?" Harry asked. "Then he doesn't have a problem anymore. Seems he's passed his issue onto me and the Dark Lord will leave him alone now. Why send you here to tell me this?"

"Draco doesn't know I am here. My father, like so many others, was terrified of the Dark Lord, and only followed him because he was afraid if he didn't we would all be killed," Astoria revealed. "But the things Draco has told me of what it was like living with him, I know the Dark Lord would have killed us for the slightest indiscretion. I know this will mean little to you, but Draco was tortured mercilessly at the hands of the Dark Lord while his parents and all of Lord Voldemort's closest followers watched and did nothing. That doesn't excuse Draco's actions towards you and others, but I thought you should know."

"You're not like your sister," Harry observed.

"I hope not," Astoria responded. "She's vapid and shallow." Harry raised an eyebrow at this statement, since he thought the same could have been said regarding Malfoy, and Astoria continued on, "I know what you are thinking, but Draco has changed, at least to me he has."

"I take it you believe Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"I do," Astoria affirmed. "I witnessed him dreaming once, it was not pleasant and he was truly terrified when he awoke."

"I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't care if he passed his demons onto me," Harry said, observing Astoria to gauge her reaction. Her cheeks reddened in embarrassment and she looked down at her clasped hands in her lap.

"You are right," she whispered. "But, he does care about me and he is worried that I am in danger."

"How do you know he truly cares about you?" Harry asked.

"He blushes when he talks to me," Astoria explained. "I have found, from my experiences, that men only blush when they say things they truly mean that they may be rejected for." She looked up at Harry with sorrow in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I only came here because I wanted to make sure you're doing everything you can to help him."

Harry had begun to wonder how this woman had ever been sorted into Slytherin, but the gall of her last statement answered that question and he ground his teeth. "Unlike some people, I always try to do everything I can to help, whether I like the person or not. Now, have you had any unexplained occurrences or troubling nightmares to speak of?"

As he spoke a red inter-office airplane landed in Harry's inbox, smoking and glowing brightly to indicate the message was urgent. Apologizing to Astoria for the interruption, Harry plucked up the memo and unfolded it. Monat's neat script appeared:

**Urgent message from the Harpies' Healer. Ginny's been injured and sent to St Mungo's for further examination.**

Harry's heart dropped to his stomach as he read the message. "I'm sorry, we'll have to continue this some other time," he said, his mind already at St Mungo's and thinking the worst as he hastily pushed his chair back and rose. Astoria did the same, and Harry opened his office door to find Monat already waiting on the other side to escort Astoria out.

"Tell Robards," Harry began but Monat cut him off.

"Don't worry about him, Harry," she assured. "Just go."

He left a confused Astoria and a sympathetic Monat behind without a glance backward.


	15. Ch 14 - Revelations

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter I posted. I thought I should post the next chapter instead of keeping you all in suspense, although I suspect this one may cause you to want to read more immediately, as well.

Thanks to my amazing betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Rachel had accompanied Ginny to St Mungo's and waited with her quietly in the waiting room until Ginny's Healer had called her back. Ginny had sat staring at the worn tiled floor, willing the tiny life within her to flourish and Rachel hadn't spoken much, clearly at a loss as to what she should say. She had however, squeezed Ginny's hand reassuringly before Ginny had followed after the Healer.

Ginny sat on the table in an examination room, numbly listening as Healer Banner explained how the pregnancy had only been six weeks along, and had not been viable. Ginny stared down at her knotted fingers, her knuckles white and felt the burn of tears in her eyes.

"This is not an uncommon occurrence, Ginny," Healer Banner explained. "The potion isn't always one hundred percent effective, and many times first pregnancies miscarry, especially if a witch has been on the potion."

"But if I had known," Ginny murmured. "I would have quit Quidditch. I'd never have been hit with the Bludger. Maybe then…"

"Ginny, listen to me," Healer Banner said gently. "This was not your fault."

"I need to use the restroom," she whispered. She hadn't spoken above a whisper since Deborah had told her what was happening. It didn't seem right to speak at all, and all Ginny really wanted to do was curl up in a ball in a corner somewhere, close her eyes, and hope that it would all go away and she wouldn't have to deal with this unexpected emotional pain that was leaving her reeling. She hadn't even known she was pregnant and now she had intense feelings for a tiny foetus that wasn't any bigger than a Gobstone.

"I'd like you to come back in a day or so in order to check your hCG levels," Healer Banner continued, clearly having not heard Ginny's request. She was waving her wand over Ginny as she spoke. "They are still high, but should begin lowering soon. If not, we'll have to check to make sure nothing is still attached to your uterine lining. As unpleasant as that sounds, it's necessary or you could suffer a serious infection, Ginny."

Healer Banner droned on, mentioning something about trying again in three months once she received a clean bill of health, but Ginny and Harry hadn't even been trying to conceive in the first place. Ginny was at the height of her career, and Harry was going to be promoted any day to Assistant Head Auror, babies were a few years down the road, or so she had thought. However, now she suddenly didn't know anymore. It was as if this event had triggered a side of her she hadn't even known existed and try as she might, she couldn't get past these feelings roiling around in her belly of love and protection and her failure to do either and Ginny thought she might be sick.

"I really need the loo," she said a bit louder, cutting into Healer Banner's litany of dos and don'ts over the next few days as her body adjusted.

"Of course, Ginny, I'm sorry," Healer Banner said with a look of pity that Ginny wanted to wipe off her face. Banner had been her Healer since Ginny's menses had started when she was thirteen and at the moment Ginny hated that she knew her so well. She wished she had simply seen an attending Healer to avoid any personal feelings.

Slipping off the table, Ginny headed out of the room and down the hall to where she knew the loo was located. Entering the small room, she quickly shut the door behind her and immediately sank to the floor, the tears that had threatened in her Healer's office falling fast and furious. Ginny stuffed a knuckle in her mouth to keep the wail from escaping and she tried to ride out the wave of grief that washed over her. She couldn't understand these inexplicable feelings of anguish which she hadn't felt since Fred had died.

Regardless of what Healer Banner said, Ginny couldn't help but feel that this was her fault. Why hadn't she noticed her cycle had been late? She'd been too busy with the house and the bloody ghost. It'd be so easy to blame it on those things, but if she had been paying better attention, maybe she wouldn't be sitting here now and she would have known and taken the proper precaution to ensure the safety of the baby. Now it was lost, before she had even been able to become acquainted with the idea of it. Not to mention of how was she going to tell Harry.

A fresh wave of sorrow and remorse washed over her. He had said recently he wasn't ready for children, so would he even be disappointed? How would she feel if he acted relieved over the fact? What if he was devastated? She didn't think she could bear either reaction. Maybe she shouldn't tell him. He didn't have to know, it would be better, and she wouldn't have to deal with his reception of the news, good or bad. She knew she couldn't do that; it was completely wrong. Their marriage was based on love and trust and this was something too big to keep from him. He had a right to know.

Her stomach churned at the thought of having to tell him the horrible news. Nausea washed over her and Ginny crawled over to the toilet just in time to vomit into the bowl. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she shakily stood up and washed her hands in the sink before splashing some cold water on her face.

There was a soft knock on the door. "Ginny, love, are you in there?"

Harry. Always arriving in the nick of time it seemed. Ginny took a moment to try and collect herself before facing him. Cupping her hands under the still running water, she took several gulps of the cool liquid and splashed some more on her face. Turning off the faucet she straightened her back, and brushed at her clothes, before wiping away the remaining water and tears on her cheeks. She would be strong; the foetus hadn't even been fully formed yet, hadn't looked like a real baby yet, almost, but not quite.

She opened the door and as soon as she saw Harry standing there looking confused and worried, the conviction Ginny had just been feeling broke like a dam. She ran straight into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" she repeated over and over again as Harry said nothing but made soft shushing noises and rubbed her back gently. Ginny cried until she was depleted of tears or strength and sagged against his warm chest, completely supported by his strong arms.

"It's not your fault, Gin," Harry murmured, guiding her to a bench in the hall and sitting next to her, still cradling her in his arms. "Please don't cry. I'm glad you are all right. When I received the news, I was worried sick that you had been severely injured. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

"But, I lost our b-baby," Ginny blubbered as her face screwed up in pain again and a new torrent of tears fell.

"No, you didn't," Harry firmly insisted. "You didn't do anything wrong and there was nothing you could have done differently."

"You don't know that!" Ginny wailed.

Harry sighed and gripped her closer to him. "Stop, Gin. Healer Banner has already told you this was not your fault."

"How'd you even find out I was here?" Ginny asked.

"Deborah contacted me," Harry gently explained.

Ginny nodded, she had forgotten all about the Harpies Healer, Deborah, who had a responsibility to inform Ginny's emergency contact, who of course was Harry, whenever she was injured. She and Harry sat in silence in the deserted corridor. Ginny didn't know how it was possible for her world, which had been relatively perfect aside from the possibility of Tom's ghost haunting them, could suddenly be turned even more upside down. She also had no idea how to deal with all the conflicting emotions that were fighting within her.

"I'm sad," she murmured. "I didn't even know, but now I want it to stay, grow, and be our baby. It's too late, and I'm so incredibly sad."

"I know," Harry stated softly. "I can't pretend to begin to understand what you are feeling, Gin, but I'm sad too."

"It's entirely my fault," she cried softly.

"Stop saying that," Harry said forcefully.

"I'll be more careful next time, I promise," Ginny continued.

"Ginny, please," Harry begged. "Believe me when I tell you I don't blame you."

"I know you don't," she whispered. "But I blame myself. I can't help how I feel. I always thought I would know immediately if I ever became pregnant."

"How could you possibly know?" Harry asked.

"Because," Ginny whimpered. "Our love is so dear to me, I had this silly notion that I would wake up one morning and just know that through it we had just created life. I thought I would wake up feeling different."

Wordlessly, Harry pulled her closer to him, tucking her head under his chin and gently rubbed soothing circles on her arm. Ginny pressed her ear closer to his chest and listened to the faint sound of his heart beating and wondered if the baby had had a heart yet and had it been beating before it passed. A fresh wave of tears coursed silently down her cheeks as her body shook with grief anew.

"Don't cry, Ginny," Harry softly pleaded. "What can I do to help you? Please tell me."

"I want to see my mum," she finally whispered, feeling spent and empty. "Will you take me to see my mum?"

"I'll do anything for you," Harry answered.

Ginny looked up into his sad, green eyes, knowing how much he truly meant that and hating that at the moment she had no idea what he could do to possibly make her feel better. "I know you would."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When they arrived at The Burrow, Molly and Arthur were just finishing up supper and were quite surprised to see Harry and Ginny standing on their back doorstep. However, Harry could tell that as soon as Molly looked at Ginny she suspected by some strange motherly instinct that her daughter needed her, but refrained from making a fuss over her.

"Hi Mum and Dad," Ginny said in a shaky voice and Harry was afraid she was going to start crying again right there. He tightened his arm around her waist and she settled a bit.

Molly looked between them with clear worry in her eyes. "Ginny, Harry, what brings you here at this hour?"

"Not that it's not nice to see you," Arthur added with a smile.

Harry knew that was all it would take for Ginny to break. Her father, calm and kind had a tendency to bring whatever was troubling you out before you even knew it, just by saying 'hello'. Ginny's bottom lip quivered and Molly was on her in a second, pulling her into a fierce hug and Harry stepped out of the way, reluctant to let Ginny go, but knowing she needed her mother.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in question as Molly led Ginny away into the sitting room, and Molly shook her head in answer before turning her complete attention to her daughter. Harry wasn't certain if he should follow them or leave them be for the moment, but Arthur made the decision for him.

"Harry," he said. "Why don't we go out to my shed for a bit?"

Harry nodded silently and stepped back outside, having barely even entered the kitchen, and dutifully followed Arthur down the garden path that led to his work shed. Arthur opened the door, waved his wand to light the lamps that hung on the walls, and pulled out two stools from his workbench. He settled on the furthest one and picked up what Harry believed was a keyboard to a computer.

"This has been a most interesting Muggle find, Harry," Arthur began once they were seated. "It writes words! I just can't seem to figure out how to make it work."

"You need to connect it to a computer," Harry explained, startled by the unexpected beginnings of their conversation. He had expected Arthur to interrogate him immediately, but decided to go along with his father-law, somewhat grateful for the reprieve. "The words appear on the monitor, which sort of looks like a television."

Arthur's eyes widened with wonder. "Muggles have so many things to make their lives simpler! Imagine how much easier your job would be if you could have this write your reports for you!"

Harry nodded. "My hand does cramp at times. I suppose I could use a dictatiion quill, but I've been burned by those, so I don't really trust them to write down what I actually say."

Harry watched as Arthur fiddled with the keyboard some more, pressing the letter and number keys down one at a time with his index fingers. He wondered if Arthur was even going to ask him what was wrong with Ginny or if he should just inform his father-in-law. Harry had to admit he was somewhat embarrassed to tell Arthur because that would mean admitting he and Ginny had sex. He knew it was completely irrational, as they were married, of course they made love, but to talk about it with her father in any sort of fashion seemed extremely weird. She was Arthur's only daughter and now she had suffered this horrible thing and it was Harry's fault, in a way.

Harry fiddled with a light bulb lying on the workbench, rolling it back and forth between his hands. He realized he felt extremely guilty over Ginny's condition, and there was absolutely nothing he could possibly do to make her feel better. He couldn't even really understand what she was feeling. He knew how he felt, which was that now that the idea of a child had been within his reach, he wanted it, and he had to admit that notion was rather shocking. He hadn't thought he was ready for children yet. The prospect scared him if he was completely honest, as he had no idea if he would even be a good father. He hadn't had the best experiences until later on in life.

He glanced over at Arthur who had now turned the keyboard over and was pulling the keyboard legs up and then pushing them back down. Arthur was a fantastic father, and Harry wished he could have known him when he had been a child. Vernon had been a terrible father to Dudley; Harry could see that now, looking back. He had been much worse to Harry, of course, but Vernon had pushed Dudley and tried to mould him into a tiny little replica of himself, but he had never shown Dudley any real love or affection. Harry couldn't recall a single time that he had ever seen Vernon hug Dudley or kiss him goodnight when he was a child.

Arthur, on the other hand, gave out hugs to his children all of the time, even now after they had all grown up, moved out, married, and become parents themselves. Arthur's love, which Harry knew encompassed not only his children but their spouses, too, was a bottomless well that would never run dry.

Harry hoped he would wind up being a father like Arthur, and the only way he would ever know would be to become one. He wasn't certain how the loss of a baby that he hadn't even known about and was only a few weeks old could so suddenly change his entire mindset, but when he had woken up this morning, the idea of fatherhood had been a very abstract idea, and now it was all he could think about.

"So, Harry," Arthur said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "Care to tell me what's going on with my daughter?" Arthur had pushed the keyboard away from him and was gazing over at Harry intently, seemingly having read Harry's thoughts.

"I don't know if it's my place to tell you, Arthur," Harry admitted.

"I don't think she would mind," Arthur said. "Seems like she may only have the energy to tell her mum, from the way she looked. It's not serious, is it?"

"No, I suppose not," Harry said and catching the worry that entered Arthur's eyes hurried on. "She's not sick or dying, Arthur, so no need to worry about that."

"Is she pregnant?" Arthur asked. "That's the only other thing I can think of then, and she's upset because of her career, perhaps?"

Harry twisted the light bulb between his fingers. "She was pregnant, but we didn't know it until today when she lost the baby."

Arthur's face drooped with sorrow. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know you two were trying."

"We weren't," Harry shook his head. "I think that's what makes it worse. She feels responsible. She was hit by a Bludger in practice today and she thinks that's the reason she miscarried even though her Healer said otherwise."

"No matter the circumstances, she would have blamed herself regardless," Arthur said. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I missed out on something I didn't know I wanted until it was gone," Harry answered truthfully.

"Do you think Ginny feels the same way?" Arthur asked.

"I think so," Harry said, recalling everything she had said at St Mungo's. "I think that's part of the reason she is taking it so hard. I wish I could help her better."

"I can understand what you are going through," Arthur confided. "Molly and I lost a baby after Percy. It was during the height of the war and she was already grieving the loss of her brothers while having to chase after three very rambunctious little boys. Molly blamed herself, as well, even though there wasn't anything she could have changed. I felt, like you do, that there was nothing I could do to help. However, trust me when I tell you, you are doing everything Ginny needs by loving and supporting her unconditionally."

"I'm sorry to hear you and Molly suffered similarly, Arthur," Harry said sincerely. "But, knowing you understand does help."

"I thought it would, and Molly and I had four more beautiful children after," Arthur said with a small smile. "I think you and Ginny need to focus on the positive that has come out of this – you both know now without a doubt that you are ready and willing to become parents. You'll be the best parents you can possibly be when it's something you truly want."

"I'm afraid I won't be a very good father," Harry admitted, "even if I do want to try." He hesitated a moment, gripping the light bulb he still held in his hands tightly, before continuing. "I'm afraid I'll be like my uncle."

"Harry," Arthur said. "You have been a loving and attentive husband to my daughter. I never would have allowed you to marry her if I had had any doubt in my mind that you would take good care of her. I am quite certain you will be just as loving and attentive to your future children."

"Thank you, Arthur," Harry managed to say despite the lump that suddenly filled his throat. He looked away from his father-in-law in embarrassment and out the door of the shed to The Burrow. The light in Ginny's bedroom was lit and shadows moved past the window.

"Looks like you might be staying the night, Harry," Arthur quietly observed and Harry nodded. That was fine with him, because he knew that, just like him, Ginny felt safe here.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When Harry went to Ginny after his talk with Arthur, she was already nestled in the new standard double bed in her old bedroom under a faded patchwork quilt and sipping despondently on a cup of soup. Another cup for him and a plate of freshly baked bread sat underneath a warming charm on the bedside table. They didn't say much, and Ginny was understandably introverted to the point that she didn't even ask how things had gone with Kingsley. Harry didn't feel much like talking about his failure to persuade Kingsley and at the moment was too overcome himself with the depression of both miserable events to hold an intelligent conversation with his wife.

Instead, he settled onto the bed to hold her and Ginny set her cup on the bedside table before nestling her head onto his chest and clinging tightly to him. He knew she was trying to keep the grief to herself, but all the same it was palpable in the shudders of her body under his arm. He was thankful when she finally cried herself to sleep.

Harry lay there for sometime waiting for the elusive sleep that never came, and instead held Ginny through the night, refraining to move an inch, even though his left arm had fallen asleep. She needed the sleep more than he did, and he hoped she was finding some much needed peace in her dreams.

In the morning, with the grey light of dawn leaking around the edges of the drawn curtain over the window, Harry gently extricated himself from Ginny. She mumbled softly before curling up in a tight ball, clutching his pillow, but still sound asleep.

Heading down the stairs, Harry found Molly already in the kitchen with a kettle of hot water and with a wordless smile of good morning, made him a cup of tea exactly the way he liked it. When he thanked her, she patted him on the arm and expressed her wish that she could do more. Before she turned back to her work at the counter Harry caught the sheen of tears in her warm, brown eyes, that were so much like Ginny's. He had no idea what he could say to her since he had no doubt Ginny's miscarriage had brought back painful memories of Molly's own.

Harry stood awkwardly holding the cooling cup of tea, hovering uncertainly by the table when thankfully Arthur arrived in the kitchen. After greeting Harry, he went over to his wife and spoke softly to her and Harry took that as a good opportunity to give them some privacy. Picking up the_ Daily Prophet_ lying on the scrubbed wood table, Harry headed into the sitting room and sank into a soft armchair tucked away in a corner.

On the front page was an article detailing Draco Malfoy's upcoming parole hearing which was scheduled for the following day and the journalist was deliberating whether or not Malfoy would be released. Harry was supposed to attend the hearing, and he could probably very easily express a desire for Malfoy to serve his full sentence. However, Harry wasn't that vindictive of a person and thought perhaps Malfoy was suffering enough, as it was. Harry didn't have any plans to balk if the Wizengamot released Malfoy tomorrow.

Flipping through the paper, he came across a blurb in the sports section regarding Ginny's injury during the previous day's practice and speculation over the severity and whether she would play in the match against Puddlemere the coming weekend. Thankfully, the nature of her injury was not known and hopefully it would remain that way.

Folding the paper, Harry set it on the table by the chair and leaned his head against the back of the chair. He was exhausted and closing his eyes, was just drifting off to sleep when Arthur's voice called from the kitchen.

"Harry, you have a Floo call from Gwenog Jones."

Startling awake, Harry rose quickly just as Arthur appeared in the doorway. Harry glanced at the mantle clock and then over at his father-in-law. "At this time of the morning?" he asked. Why does she want to speak to me and not Ginny?"

"I don't know," Arthur replied, shaking his head, "but she specifically asked for you."

Harry wondered briefly if he should wake Ginny before taking the call, but thought better of it in case Gwenog was only calling to chew him out. He grimly headed back into the kitchen where the Weasley's Floo network was located. He couldn't say he was looking forward to speaking with Gwenog first thing in the morning. She was abrasive, to be sure and better dealt with when you were fully awake and at your best.

When he entered the kitchen, Arthur and Molly retreated to the sitting room to give him some privacy and Harry steeled himself to face Gwenog. Her head hovered in the green flames and Harry could immediately tell by her face that she was growing impatient.

"Good morning, Gwenog," Harry greeted, kneeling by the grate.

"Potter," Gwenog ground out. "I have an issue."

"Ginny's fine in case you were wondering," Harry scathingly replied.

Gwenog's face softened for a fraction of a second before hardening once more. "I'm glad to hear it. But I'm out my star Chaser and now a Beater, who has just been admitted to the closed ward at St Mungo's apparently out of her mind with delusion!"

"Which Beater?" Harry asked warily.

"Josie," Gwenog answered. "The one who hit Ginny. I've contacted the Aurors office to get to the bottom of the matter, but I'd really prefer it if you were the one to spearhead this case."

Harry shook his head. "They haven't contacted me, probably because of the personal nature of the case." He thought more than likely the real reason they hadn't contacted him was because Robards had already put him on a leave of absence, even if his supervisor hadn't had a chance to inform Harry of that fact yet.

"I don't care about any of that!" Gwenog spat. "You're the best in the department and I want to know why I am suddenly losing two of my best players days before an important match!"

"As long as it comes from concern for your players' well-being," Harry said sarcastically.

"Listen, Potter," Gwenog growled. "Don't insinuate that I don't care about my team, because I do! I worked hard to put together the very best team there could possibly be and each and every one of them is important to me, and not only because of their talent! I'm asking you because you're the best and Josie won't shut up about You-Know-Who! I thought you'd want first crack at that."

Harry paled. "What do you mean she won't stop talking about Voldemort?"

Now it was Gwenog's turn to pale at his referral to Voldemort by his name. "She's claiming something possessed her to aim directly for Ginny."

"Physically possessed her?" Harry asked.

"I don't know!" Gwenog exclaimed in exasperation. "That's your job to find out!"

"All right," Harry conceded. "I'll head over there right away."

"Thanks," Gwenog said and then added with sincerity. "Be sure to let Ginny know we're thinking of her."

Harry nodded. "I'll tell her, Gwenog. She'll appreciate that. I'll let you know what I discover."

Gwenog ended the call with a curt nod and Harry sat a moment longer on the hearthrug staring at the empty grate. He couldn't identify the emotion roiling inside of him that had flared up at the mention that Josie may have deliberately aimed to hurt Ginny. A foot scuffed behind him and turning he saw Ginny standing in the doorway, ashen faced.

"Did you hear any of that?" Harry asked, rising.

Ginny nodded, clearly unable to speak. Her mouth worked wordlessly, opening and shutting as she tried to process what she had just overheard. Her right hand clutched the emerald green scarab pendant around her neck while she pressed her left hand protectively against her belly. She emitted a small cry of despair as she took a staggering step towards Harry. Leaping to his feet, he reached her right before her knees buckled and caught her in his arms, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"Don't jump to conclusions," Harry whispered in her ear, . "It may be nothing."

"He killed our baby!" Ginny screeched, finally having found her voice.

"Ginny," Harry warned, attempting to remain calm when the fear and anger threatened to overwhelm him as well. "We don't know that. It could be that Josie is simply out of her mind."

"Of course she is!" Ginny screamed. "Don't you think I don't know what it's like to be possessed by him? You don't remember what you did until later when it's too late to change what you've done!"

Arthur and Molly appeared behind Ginny, looking extremely worried, which was the exact thing Harry was hoping to avoid. They were already understandably concerned for Ginny's well-being, and they certainly did not need to know about this possible wrinkle in everyone's happiness until Harry knew for certain its verity.

"I'm going to take Ginny back upstairs," Harry said, guiding his extremely distraught wife towards the stairs. "Molly, I've been called into work, would you mind bringing up some tea and a sleeping draught for Ginny?"

"I don't want to sleep, Harry!" Ginny fumed, pushing against him. "I'm coming with you!"

"You most certainly are not!" Molly interjected.

"Ginny, this is official Auror office business, you can't be there," Harry said trying to reason with her. "You need to rest."

"She's my friend," Ginny said forcibly. "Besides, are you honestly going to be a prat about this yet again and think you know more than me?"

"I never said that," Harry replied. "I am just trying to look after you as my wife who has already been through enough of an ordeal for one day."

"I'm coming with you," Ginny said stubbornly. "End of discussion." She wrenched her arm out of his hand and stomped back up the stairs. Without looking back at Molly and Arthur, Harry quickly followed her. When he reached her old bedroom, she was looking through the new wardrobe for any old clothes she may have left behind, her obvious frustration mounting as she flung out jumpers and tattered school uniforms from many years past.

"There's nothing but rubbish left here!" she fiercely complained, violently yanking out a drawer and yelping in alarm when it pulled free from its slot and fell to the floor.

Silently, Harry cast a cleansing charm on her clothes from the previous day and placed them in her now empty hands. Ginny took them without looking him in the eye and sat on the bed to dress. Harry picked up his uniform robes from where he had dropped them on the floor the evening before and shook them out. Pulling them on, he sat next to Ginny on the bed. It dipped under his weight, shifting her towards him. She placed a hand upon his thigh to steady herself and breathed out a sigh, releasing some of her vexation. Shaking out her jeans, she stood and stepped into them, pulling them up under the old nightdress she was wearing before slipping it over her head and tossing it on the bed behind her.

Despite everything, Harry couldn't help but admire her. She was beautiful; her fiery hair streaming down her slender back, the graceful curve of her neck, her pert round breasts, and her taut stomach from all the hours flying a broom. She was perfect in every way, and she was his. She had freely given herself to him, as he had her. Their lives were intertwined body and soul, and the thought that he had brought an ounce of this pain down upon her because of his inability to discover the truth behind what was haunting them weighed heavily upon Harry.

If it turned out to be Tom, then Harry would have wasted weeks disbelieving Malfoy and the guilt of what he may have brought down upon them crashed over him. His ties to the evil wizard seemed never-ending and the thought that Ginny was now caught in the middle made him sick. His whole life he had fought to keep his loved ones safe, only to watch them perish one by one. He had held Ginny at a distance, hoping to protect her until it was all over and denying them both what they had finally been able to cherish over the past four years. To now be haunted by the evil bastard, hell-bent to make their lives miserable was almost more than Harry could bear.

Ginny reached past him to retrieve the blue jumper he had handed her moments ago, pausing when she recognized the look on his face.

"Stop it right now, Harry," Ginny ordered, placing a finger under his chin and forcing him to look her in the eyes. "None of this is your fault! You have done everything you could have."

She leaned in and kissed him fiercely on the mouth before stepping back to finish dressing. She quickly pulled the jumper over her head and huffed in exasperation when she saw Harry still had the guilty look plastered over his face.

"How can I protect you from a ghost?" Harry uttered. "I promised to love and protect you."

"It's not your job to protect me!" Ginny exclaimed. "We both made that promise to each other. We are in this together, for better, for worse, remember?"

"I remember," Harry replied.

"Then promise me we will deal with this today," Ginny pleaded. "Together!"

Harry rose, gazing into her eyes. The anguish he saw in them, along with her fierce determination fuelled a fire within him, chasing the momentary despair he had been feeling away. The guilt within him flamed to anger that Tom had attempted to hurt her again.

"Let's hope Josie can give us some answers, but either way, I promise you," he vowed, "With or without Kingsley's approval, we will take care of this monster today."


	16. Ch 15 - A Nightmare Becomes Reality

**Author's Notes: **Thanks, once again, to Arnel and seekers_destiny for taking time out of their schedules to read and beta this for me. They work hard and give me valuable input. Things are rapidly picking up and coming to a head. I hope you enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

"Harry!" Robards called in way of greeting as soon as Harry and Ginny stepped through the front entrance of St Mungo's. Apparently, Harry's supervisor had been lying in wait for them to appear so he could cut them off before they continued on to the reception desk.

"Good morning, Head Auror," Harry said as pleasantly as he could muster.

"You, as well," Robards grumbled looking somewhat contrite. "I'm glad to see you are well, Ginny"

"Thank you," Ginny murmured from Harry's side, but holding his hand in a death grip that was slowly cutting off the circulation. Harry had warned her before they arrived that Robards may try to prevent them from seeing Josie. He had also warned her about what they may find if Robards acquiesced and let them pass.

The sympathy in Robards' eyes as he had spoken to Ginny dissipated when he returned his gaze to Harry. "Harry, I had a disturbing message yesterday from the Minister of Magic suggesting you take a temporary leave of absence. That is what I wanted to speak with you about yesterday before you were called away."

"I thought as much," Harry said and nothing more, waiting to see what his supervisor was going to say.

"As you can imagine," Robards continued. "When the Minister makes a suggestion, it is in our best interest to do as he asks."

Harry nodded. "Unless he is completely wrong."

Robards sighed as he looked Harry over. "He has the entire Wizarding community to look out for. Obviously, he was concerned about having one of our best Aurors go rogue or do something that may be hazardous to others."

"Hazardous to others?" Harry asked, laughing bitterly.

"However," Robards cut in. "My question to you is this, why didn't you tell me your suspicions? I've looked over your reports on Van Hyning and you are correct, the man was as stable as they come. Also, after seeing Josie Barker's condition and hearing of her character from Gwenog Jones, I have to wonder if there is more going on here than meets the eye."

Harry was taken aback by his supervisor's statement. "So, you aren't placing me on a leave of absence?"

"No," Robards said. "I knew it would be pointless to try and attempt to dissuade you from pursuing this case, especially if Miss Barker's claims turn out to be true. I've already notified Minister Shacklebolt, and he and Miss Jones are waiting for us outside the closed ward."

"Josie's already been admitted to the closed ward?" Ginny asked, her brows knitting together in dismay.

"I'm sorry to say, but yes," Robards said, turning to walk towards the lift, clearly expecting them to follow.

They rode the lift in silence and when the door opened, Gwenog and Kingsley were waiting expectantly on the other side.

"Thanks for coming, Potter," Gwenog said gruffly as they stepped off the lift. "Even though your boss here is claiming it was highly untoward of me to contact you without his approval. Of course, I told him where he can shove his opinion."

Robards glared over at Gwenog, but chose to ignore her. "Minister Shacklebolt, I apprised Harry and Ginny of the situation."

"I'm surprised to see you here, Kingsley," Harry said. "Forensic work doesn't usually call for the Minister of Magic to be present."

"I thought after our discussion yesterday, Harry, it would be prudent of me to be here," Kingsley admitted.

"Gwenog told me a bit earlier. Is Josie still claiming possession?" Harry asked.

Kingsley nodded grimly. "It's far worse than that. Her condition has, unfortunately, deteriorated further. I am not sure what help she will be to us at this point."

"We'd like to see her," Ginny stated, looking steadily at Kingsley.

Kingsley hesitated, looking between Harry and Ginny. "Harry, it's what we witnessed at Azkaban with Van Hyning. It's not pretty."

"Ginny is Josie's friend, and she would like to see her to give her moral support," Harry said, thinking that if Josie was as far gone as Van Hyning had been, there would be little point.

"All right," Kingsley acquiesced. He turned towards the double doors that would lead to the closed ward, holding them open to allow the others to enter before him.

"Do I know you?" Lockhart's voice floated over, as always, from his perch next to the door. Today he was dressed in bright teal robes that made his blue eyes pop and he was peering intently at both Harry and Ginny.

Harry was about to speak his usual answer to Lockhart's question when his old Defence professor digressed from the script and continued, studying Ginny closely. "You are glowing."

"Excuse me?" Ginny asked, clearly taken back.

"You look positively radiant," Lockhart enthused. "The last time I saw you, my dear girl, you were an utter mess." He looked over at Harry and back to Ginny. "You two would make a charming couple, I think. Love is the key, you know."

"Do you remember us?" Ginny asked.

"I don't believe I do, should I? Have we met before?" Lockhart asked, confused again.

"Yes," Harry answered. "A long time ago."

"Really?" Lockhart asked in surprise. Harry nodded his head, and Lockhart continued, having spied Ginny's scarab necklace. "That necklace will ward off evil spirits, you know. It attracts good and will keep you safe in the afterlife."

"I know," Ginny replied, staring at Lockhart who had become distracted from the conversation and was searching his robes for something. With an 'a ha!' he pulled out a quill and a photograph of himself, eliciting sighs from Kingsley, Robards, and Harry.

"Would you like my autograph?" Lockhart asked, seemingly having moved on to more familiar territory.

"I'd love one," Ginny replied kindly and waited patiently while he attempted to scrawl his name across the bottom. He handed it over to her with a flourish and a wide smile, and she graciously took it and tucked it inside her robes. "Thank you."

"Anyone else?" Lockhart asked hopefully, looking at the others.

"Can we please move on?" Gwenog exclaimed in exasperation, rolling her eyes at the loony professor.

"Some other time, perhaps, we do have pressing business to attend to," Kingsley said kindly, motioning for a Healer to attend to Lockhart and ushering the others down the aisle towards a bed about halfway down with drawn curtains.

"What was that all about?" Gwenog complained.

"Professor Lockhart accosts Auror Potter every time he visits the closed ward," Robards supplied to the Harpies captain. "They have a history."

"Must be some history, Potter," Gwenog commented before spying a Healer stepping out of the closed curtains they were headed for and trotting ahead to speak with him.

"Lockhart seemed to remember," Ginny said quietly to Harry as they followed after the others. "How did he know all of that about my necklace?" She fingered it as she spoke and glanced over at Harry.

He shook his head. "I don't know. It must have triggered something in his brain."

"Am I glowing?" Ginny asked.

"You always look lovely to me," Harry whispered quietly.

Ginny smiled slightly at this, but said no more and they continued the rest of the way in silence. When they stopped by the curtains, Gwenog was just finishing up with the Healer and looked as distraught as the tough woman had ever looked.

"She's not doing well," she said to the group as the Healer walked away to tend to his other patients on the floor. "The Healer just informed me that there's not much hope of recovery."

"That is disappointing news," Kingsley conceded. "I had hoped to have verification of the story she managed to tell her roommate."

"Ella Hemingway is her flatmate, correct?" Harry asked, looking between Ginny and Gwenog for verification.

"Yes, when Ella woke this morning, she heard Josie vomiting in the loo," Gwenog explained. "She went to check on her and found Josie on the floor, mumbling about Voldemort making her do it. When Ella questioned her further, Josie began to cry and said Voldemort made her attack Ginny. As soon as she said it, she began convulsing and Ella contacted St Mungo's immediately, but by then Josie was in shock and hasn't come round since."

"I'd like to see her for myself," Harry said, already knowing he would find exactly what he had seen when he examined Malcolm Van Hyning. "Are you ready?'' he asked Ginny.

She nodded and Harry reached his hand and drew back the curtain to reveal Josie Barker, who had been a perky, blonde girl with her whole life ahead of her; she now lay sallow-faced upon a pillow staring sightlessly up at the ceiling above her. Ginny gasped and a tiny cry of dismay escaped her lips.

"Josie!" she cried and reached for her friend's hand. She squeezed it hard, but Harry could see that Josie had no reaction whatsoever to the touch or Ginny's voice. Her eyes were as dead as Van Hyning's had been, and as any wizard Harry had seen who had been unfortunate enough to be kissed by a Dementor. However, the Ministry had sent the Dementors back to where they resided immediately after the Final Battle, and had erected wards and set guards to ensure they did not escape and make attempts to return to wizard populated areas. There was no way Van Hyning or Josie could have encountered one of the skeletal creatures.

"What's happened to her?" Ginny asked.

"It was the same with Malfoy's guard," Harry admitted, stepping to Ginny's side to observe Josie, as well.

Harry recalled that Josie had had sparkling blue eyes, but they were now a dull, cloudy grey. As he peered into them a shadow flitted across the irises. Leaning forward, to gain a better look, Harry rested his hand lightly on the side of the bed to steady himself, but all he could see was the cloudy film and nothing more. Josie hadn't blinked or moved since they had entered her curtained room. As Harry began to straighten her hand shot out from where it lay upon the bed and gripped his wrist tightly. Her touch was like a hot poker on his skin and an icy coldness exploded from within his scar causing bile to rise in his throat and his knees to buckle.

"Harry?" Ginny asked in confusion.

Harry collapsed to the tiled floor next to Josie's bed, her hand still firmly clamped around his wrist. He could feel his body jerking uncontrollably on the floor as Ginny fell to her knees beside him and attempted to pull his hand from Josie's grasp. He felt another pair of hands clamp on his legs, trying to contain their writhing, but all five of his senses were fading until he could no longer see, hear, or feel anything.

His mind was black as night, but a flickering picture appeared in the distance and he felt himself being drawn towards it. "Josie?" he called and his voice echoed back at him. Pressing further he kept a linear line towards the flickering light, calling out occasionally and listening to the echo of his voice around him.

The blackness swirled around him as he drew closer to the picture and in a flash he was in the bright sunlight of the day and tried to blink away the tears in his eyes, but he didn't seem to have control of his body. He felt the heavy weight of a broom in his right hand and attempted to lift it, but it remained unmoving by his side.

_"Allow me,"_ a sickeningly familiar voice hissed in Harry's brain like a snake. The broom lifted effortlessly and Harry felt himself mount the broom and kick off, flying out of the entryway and into the air above the pitch. Hovering in the air on a Firebolt 3, he tested the weight of the Beater's bat in his other hand, swinging it back and forth through the air. It felt solid and heavy; the perfect tool to inflict damage and a feral grin stretched across his face. Gazing lazily about the pitch he spotted his quarry at the far end, her familiar flaming red hair roped in a long braid that fluttered behind her as she flew around the goalposts.

_"Ginevra, my how you've grown."_

Harry did not want to see this, did not need to see this. He knew what happened, had envisioned it a hundred times already in his head. Poor unsuspecting Ginny simply running practice drills for Gwenog, not thinking one of her fellow teammates would send a devastating blow towards her.

"No," he said, attempting to wrench his mind back.

_"Oh no!"_ Tom Riddle's voice echoed around him. _"I want you to see this."_

He leaned over the broom and urged it forward faster, streaking towards a Bludger his fellow Beater had just hit towards him. The path was clear, pulling his arm back he slammed the bat with all the strength in his body and sent the heavy ball screaming towards it target. Beautiful Ginevra rose up on her broom, preparing to throw the Quaffle through the center ring when the Bludger smashed into the small of her back, pushing her forcefully towards the front of her broom. The Quaffle fell to the pitch below her as she grappled to retain control of her broom and prevent herself from slipping off the handle, but he didn't care about any of that. All he cared about was the tiny pinprick of light that fluttered out of her body and winked out of existence.

His laughter bubbled within him and rang out bringing the darkness back with it. _"Harry Potter,"_ Tom called softly. _"I'm coming for you, Harry. I'm coming for you."_

Harry could feel the coils of Tom's thoughts attempting to gain further purchase within his own, and with a final burst of determination, he violently pushed against the tendrils. Tom's screams of outrage echoed in his ears before Harry felt himself thrown forcibly back against the floor.

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, reaching for him once again as he scrambled to his feet and drew his wand.

"_Phantasma revelio_!" he bellowed pointing his wand directly at Josie's prone body.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Kingsley shouted, beginning to draw his own wand when a horrible high-pitched squeal filled the room, causing everyone to cover their ears in pain.

The wail increased in pitch as a pale green light returned to Harry's wand and a dark form rose up out of Josie's body to hover in the air. Harry stared in horror at the creature, a grotesque cross between a human and an animal, with glowing red eyes and slits where its nose should be. Its awful mouth was gaping open, revealing a black maw filled with jagged teeth, that continued to emit the awful scream. It was his nightmare of the soul shard come to life and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.

Gwenog screamed in terror as the thing scurried across Josie's body towards the foot of the bed where the Harpies captain was standing. She dove to the side of the bed, pulling the bedsheet with her as Robards yelled "_Stupefy_!" pointing his wand at the thing. His spell passed harmlessly through the creature and in retaliation it lunged towards him, streaking through his body with lightning speed. His breath hitched and clutching his chest, the Head Auror collapsed on the floor.

"What is that thing?" Kingsley shouted, kneeling next to Robards and aiming his wand at the creature, which now floated near the ceiling.

The thing in question hovered for a second longer before streaking down towards Ginny. Harry stepped in front of her desperately calling "_Deletrius_!", not knowing if the spell would work against an apparition, but having to try.

Howling with rage, the creature swooped over Ginny's and Harry's heads before crashing into the wall behind Josie's bed. It dispersed into black smoke that seeped into the cracks of the stone, its wailing ceasing immediately.

All four wizards sat in stunned silence, and stared at the wall where the apparition had vanished. Gwenog pulled herself up off the floor on the opposite side of the bed, peering warily at Josie, and backing away slowly until she reached the curtain and came to halt.

"Gulping gargoyles, what just happened?" she shakily asked, looking over at Harry and Ginny.

Ginny stood clutching her necklace with a shocked look on her face and Harry, ignoring Gwenog's question for the moment, turned towards his wife. "Are you all right, Ginny?"

"What was that, Harry?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Something I thought I'd never see again," Harry admitted.

"I would like to hear all about that, Harry," Kingsley intervened from where he still knelt on the floor by Robards. "However, we have another issue to deal with at the moment. Robards is dead."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

After Kingsley had announced that Robards was dead, he contacted the Auror Office and Assistant Head Auror Williamson arrived soon after to be apprised of the situation. Kingsley immediately promoted him to acting Head Auror, and left him with the team of Aurors he had brought with him, which included Neville and Clyde to speak with the Healers regarding the cause of death. Kingsley requested that Harry and Ginny accompany him back to his office where they would be afforded some privacy to speak without the fear of being overheard.

Harry was pale and withdrawn and his guilt-ridden eyes told Ginny far more than she cared to know. When they entered Kingsley's office, he indicated that they should sit on a posh red leather couch that sat in front of the fireplace in the office. He pointed his wand at the grate, causing a warm fire to flare up, and then went to a cabinet behind his desk, pulled out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhisky and three tumblers before returning to sit in a matching red leather armchair near them. Silently he poured them each a finger of the liquor and handed a glass to Harry and Ginny.

Ginny took a sip and swallowed, and the fiery liquid left a trail of warmth within her as it travelled down to pool in her stomach. Harry knocked back his entire glass in one swallow, causing Kingsley to raise one eyebrow towards him before asking as politely as he could, "What the hell just happened in Josie Barker's room?"

Harry hesitated to answer, staring into the flames instead, lost in thought. It was only when Ginny linked the fingers of her left hand firmly through the fingers of his right that he looked over at her and began to speak. The haunted fear she saw in his eyes was enough to know that whatever he was going to say would be awful, and it was.

He reluctantly told them what had happened when Josie had grabbed his hand and Ginny wasn't ashamed to admit that she covered her face with her hands and cried openly in front of Kingsley. Clearly at a loss as to what to say, Kingsley instead poured them each another drink, even though Ginny hadn't finished the first one. Harry took a sensible sip the second time and Kingsley again asked him what the thing was that had manifested itself to them.

Finishing off his drink, Harry set the glass aside and took a deep breath before continuing. His next explanation was more difficult and the true source of his immense guilt. He started off by explaining to Kingsley the horrible secret of Harry having been a Horcrux. Kingsley was understandably shocked at this bit of news and poured himself a third round of Firewhisky, swallowing it all in one gulp before asking Harry to continue.

Ginny wasn't sure why Harry was revealing the secret, as he had never wanted anyone to know. He had always been afraid that the knowledge of knowing he had been a Horcrux would make people fear him even more. However, Kingsley didn't appear to view Harry any differently after the confession and encouraged him to go on.

"I've had several nightmares about the soul fragment that was within me," Harry confessed.

"How do you know these are dreams about the soul fragment?" Kingsley asked.

"Because I saw it when I died," Harry answered. "When Tom killed me, I travelled to a limbo plane. It was a dreamlike King's Cross Station, and I have never really been sure if it was real or only my imagination. At any rate, I saw the remains of the soul shard cowering underneath a bench. Albus told me not to worry about it, so I ignored it."

"Albus was in your dreams, as well?" asked a confused Kingsley.

Harry shook his head. "I know it's confusing, Kingsley. Albus met me in the limbo King's Cross Station. He explained a great many things to me and told me I could cross-over completely or return to the living. Obviously, I decided to return. I left the fragment behind and never gave it a second thought, until today."

"So, you think Tom is returning, as well?" Kingsley asked, fear lighting his eyes.

"No," Harry answered. "He's good and dead and so are all the soul fragments that were contained in the Horcruxes. I think this is merely the ghost of the soul fragment that was within me. Somehow, it never crossed over and has figured out a way to haunt the living world. Namely Ginny, me, and Draco Malfoy, for some inexplicable reason. Or not."

Harry paused, deep in thought a moment. "Astoria Greengrass visited me yesterday and informed me that Draco thinks Tom used him to get to me. Maybe the fragment was lost when it returned and couldn't find me. So it travelled to a place full of misery and despair, something it would be strongly attuned to. My dreams started right after I visited Draco for the first time. The fragment always demands that I help it cross-over."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Ginny intervened, looking over at Harry with wide eyes.

"I thought they were simply nightmares, Gin," Harry attested. He looked completely demoralized. "I think I've made a terrible mistake."

The liquor Ginny had already consumed sloshed around as her belly churned with this disquieting piece of news. Anger welled up inside of her at Tom for tormenting them in death, and bitter tears sprang to her eyes.

"That monster killed our baby, and laughed while it did it!" she spat.

"I know. Telling you is the hardest thing I have ever had to do," Harry admitted. Harry looked as sick as Ginny felt.

"I need some fresh air," Ginny stated quietly.

"I'll come with you," Harry offered, beginning to rise from his seat.

"I really need to clear my head alone, Harry," Ginny explained and hurried on when a stricken look crossed over his face. "I'm not upset with you, love. None of this is your fault. I'll be back soon, I promise. Finish explaining everything to Kingsley."

She squeezed his hand before departing quickly, leaving a bemused Kingsley and a stricken Harry behind. She'd reassure him again when she returned, but Ginny truly felt as if she may vomit and needed to remove herself from the stuffy office. Taking the lift to the Atrium, she quickly stepped into a grate and took the Floo to the network entrance inside a loo on the busy London street above. Shoving past the witches standing in line to enter the Ministry, Ginny marched outside and around a corner to lean against the wall, breathing in the fresh cool air of late fall. She closed her eyes and willed her stomach to settle as the awful images from Josie's bedside accosted her vision.

The creature had been terrifying and the idea that it had gleefully murdered their unborn child was like a knife to Ginny's heart. As if the loss hadn't been painful enough. In some ways it was just like that blasted diary, with it possessing whomever it could to accomplish its agenda. How were they supposed to deal with it? Harry had been able to do away with the shade of Tom by stabbing the diary with a Basilisk fang, but that had been an actual Horcrux. There was nothing to stab this time since the shard was really a ghost this time and not simply a reflected image of the living soul within the diary.

What were they going to do? Hopefully, the events in the hospital and Harry's tale would be enough for Kingsley to approve the Binding Ritual. It was their only hope.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" Hermione's voice asked, and Ginny opened her eyes to see her friend and her brother, Ron, standing there holding cups from a Muggle tea shop that was Hermione's favourite place to go for lunch on occasion. They were both looking at her with extreme concern and Ginny pushed herself away from the wall.

"I was getting some fresh air," Ginny explained.

"I read in the paper this morning you were injured during practice yesterday," Ron said. "Are you all right?"

Ginny realized they didn't know about anything that had transpired. She and Harry hadn't had the energy to talk to anyone about the miscarriage except her parents and then everything else had come crashing down around them this morning when the ghost had appeared. Ron and Hermione must have been to lunch, and Ron didn't even know that Robards was dead.

Ginny's eyes widened as she looked at Hermione and thought again about what Harry had said in Kingsley's office and how Hermione knew about the Binding Ritual, at least, and the soul shard, too. Now that they almost definitely knew what was haunting them, Hermione would know better where the ghost would wind up.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, her fear ebbing away as hope suddenly filled her. "We have to go to see Kingsley and Harry immediately!"

She grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her towards the queue leading to the Floo network, with a bewildered Ron following closely after.


	17. Ch 16 - Five Points to a Star

**Author's Note: **Thanks to my amazing betas, Arnel and seekers_destiny! They work really hard and deserve a lot of credit. Enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry and Kingsley were in the middle of a Floo call with Minerva McGonagall when Ginny returned with Ron and Hermione in tow. It was clear they were trying to arrange other dining accommodations for the students and staff at Hogwarts. Harry glanced over at Ginny seeking her understanding and forgiveness, and she nodded slightly, which was enough to allow him to return to the conversation at hand. Minerva assured them Hogwarts would be ready by early evening and with a brow deeply furrowed with worry, she wished Harry luck.

Kingsley turned to the trio that had just entered with a bemused expression. "Are you feeling better, Ginny?"

"I had a thought while I was outside clearing my head," Ginny said in answer to his query, before turning to Hermione. "Hermione, Harry thinks the ghost is a soul shard, specifically the one that was in him."

Hermione gasped at this news and Ron's eyes widened in horror. "Ginny, we're not supposed to talk about that!"

"It's okay, Ron," Harry assured as his friends looked between him, Ginny, and Kingsley for confirmation. "I told Kingsley the truth, and Ginny's right, I think it's the shard. It manifested itself to us today and it looked disturbingly similar."

"Are you certain?" Hermione asked, overcoming her initial shock.

"As certain as I can be, Hermione," Harry said.

"That's interesting," Hermione mused. "You were the only vessel that had a soul of its own." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her cheeks coloured and she looked over at Harry, clearly mortified. "I am so sorry, Harry. I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

"It's all right," Harry answered grimly. "I've already thought about that, too. I suppose that's the difference between it and the other six. I saw the soul shard at the time of its and my death, but didn't really think much of it. It must have never crossed-over, but stayed there on that limbo plane. It's the only thing I can think of that makes sense and perhaps why and how it managed to travel back here as a ghost."

"Then," Hermione reflected thoughtfully. "It died in the Forbidden Forest."

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed. "So, maybe we don't have to worry about the ghost being bound to the Great Hall after all. Maybe it will be bound to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest instead."

"That would make things a bit simpler," Harry slowly agreed.

"I've already told Harry I am on board with the binding," Kingsley confirmed and looked over at Hermione. "What else do you need besides my signature on the contract?"

"Erm," Hermione began. "I was doing a bit more research this morning in the hope that you would allow us to perform the binding today, Kingsley, and I did come across something else that may put a wrench in things."

Harry groaned. "What?"

"The most powerful and lasting bindings have all been done by those affected most by the haunting."

"All right, so both Harry and I will have to perform the ritual," Ginny said. "We assumed as much already, Hermione."

"You two aren't the only ones being haunted," Hermione reminded them and waited for the realization to sink in.

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" Ron finally asked. "Malfoy has to be involved?"

"If we want to make sure we perform it right, then yes," Hermione affirmed. "And not only Draco, but his mother, as well."

"Why, Hermione?" Harry inquired. "Malfoy I can understand, but why his mum?"

"Because the ghost killed Narcissa's husband, even if that was doing us all a favour, and it negatively affected her," Hermione stated.

Harry thought this over for a minute. It made sense; Malfoy had been afflicted just as much as Ginny and he had. If Narcissa was to be involved because of Lucius, then Harry concluded that Astoria would need to be a part of the binding as well. She was connected to Draco on a personal level and had already informed Harry that the ghost had threatened Draco with her life. She had never been able to answer Harry's final question to her regarding whether or not she had been plagued with nightmares, but something told Harry the answer probably would have been yes.

"In that case," he said. "We will need to contact Astoria Greengrass and have her be present as well. She and Draco have formed a relationship, of sorts."

"Are you joking?" Ron railed. "Three Slytherins sending the ghost of the Dark Lord's soul shard to the Forbidden Forest for all of eternity? They'll try to tame it to do their bidding. I don't trust them!"

"I don't trust Malfoy all that much either," Harry admitted. "But we have all seen this thing and I know Malfoy was truly terrified by it. He doesn't want this creature anywhere near him, I do believe that. I also believe he really is concerned for Astoria's well-being. If using them will ensure we bind this ghost good and tight, I say we don't have much choice in the matter."

"We do need five power points to charge the pentagram," Hermione said. "I was going to suggest either Ron or myself for the fifth point, but if what you say is true, Harry, then Astoria would be the better choice."

"I don't believe this," Ron said. "Hermione we were just discussing this at lunch, and you didn't mention any of this."

"That's because we thought we were dealing with something else, Ron," Hermione huffed. "Now that we are nearly one hundred percent certain it's a soul shard, it makes perfect sense. Not to mention that Narcissa was there at the time of its death and she protected Harry."

"Malfoy never did that!" Ron spat.

"No, but he did refuse to say whether or not it was Harry when we were captured by the Snatchers, Ron," Hermione reminded him. "Why'd he do that?"

"Who knows and who cares?" Ron asked.

"Because it probably gained us time when we needed it most," Harry answered. "That's why we should care."

"That didn't stop them from torturing Hermione, or Malfoy from trying to kill you in the Room of Requirement, Harry!" Ron countered. "Or when he was going to trial!"

"Arguing over whether or not Malfoy should be there isn't getting us anywhere!" Ginny shouted. "I hate the git as much, if not more than you do, Ron, but if Hermione says he should be a part of the ritual, then that's all I need. I want this thing gone today!"

"We'll have to sign Draco out of Azkaban," Kingsley intervened. "Since his parole hearing is scheduled for tomorrow, that shouldn't be difficult. We can say we want to keep him under guard in a Ministry cell to avoid the press in the morning."

"We can do that," Harry said, indicating himself and Ron. He looked over at Ginny and Hermione. "Would you two be able to see to Narcissa? She works at Borgin and Burkes and should be there at this time of day."

Hermione and Ginny nodded.

"I'll visit Astoria Greengrass and apprise her of the situation," Kingsley offered.

"We'll meet back here later," Harry suggested. They all turned to depart and collect their assigned Slytherin, but Harry gently took Ginny's arm and held her back.

"I'm sorry," Harry admitted, feeling his guilt and sorrow threatening to overwhelm him. "I should have told you sooner. I didn't want to upset you, it's the only reason I never said anything."

Ginny sighed and her eyes blazed as she gazed up at him. "You are an arse, Harry, but I love you. None of this is your fault."

"I know," Harry answered, but still couldn't seem to quell the feeling that it _was_ all his fault, "but I should have suspected. After all those years of being plagued by nightmares, I should have known there was more to my dreams than just dreams.

"Look at what being married to me has done to you," Harry continued, placing his hand on her belly and staring at her with fathomless eyes filled with more sadness than she had ever seen before.

"No, Harry," Ginny stated firmly. "You have brought more joy and happiness to my life than I ever imagined possible. Tom has brought the misery and pain, to you, to me; to everyone he has touched with his darkness, even that git Malfoy. That is no fault of yours."

Harry nodded and Ginny kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth. "Now, go retrieve Malfoy while I collect his mother."

He reluctantly nodded his head and they joined Kingsley, Ron, and Hermione, who were all waiting by an open lift to take them once again down to the Atrium. They all parted ways at the Floo network and Ginny and Hermione travelled to the Leaky Cauldron and headed towards their destination.

Ginny hadn't had much cause to ever wander down Knockturn Alley as her mother had strictly forbidden it when Ginny and her brothers had been children, and it wasn't as if the shops located there had anything to offer a young newlywed and star Quidditch player. So it was that she found herself walking down the narrow and twisted lane for the first time, following closely behind Hermione, who apparently had been here before and knew where she was going. Ginny wasn't too surprised since she knew Harry had wound up there accidentally before his second year and she seemed to recall Ron mentioning something about skulking about Borgin and Burkes before his sixth year, spying on Malfoy.

Hermione had looked pensively at her when they had stepped out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and Ginny had nearly suggested they stop for a bite and drink. She longed to sit down with her friend, have a normal conversation, and unload all the torment within her. However, there wasn't time for that luxury at the moment, but perhaps tomorrow when the dust had settled and the ghost was banished she could tell her friend everything.

Hermione turned a corner and a dark storefront with dingy windows loomed before them. A creaking iron sign engraved with elaborate script proclaiming the establishment as Borgin and Burkes swayed above the door in the breeze. Ginny peered in the windows and saw a number of grisly items, which included a gnarled hand, a human skull, and a leathery ear.

"Oh," Ginny exclaimed. "That is disturbing."

"It's worse inside," Hermione said with disdain. "A word to the wise, don't touch anything."

Ginny eyed the doorknob to the shop which resembled an eye and appeared to be watching her no matter where she moved. It reminded her slightly of Moody's magical eye, only larger and sent a distinct chill down her spine. "I'd rather not even touch the door if I can avoid it."

Hermione appeared to agree with Ginny's sentiment and pointed her wand at the door, effectively pushing it ajar without the need for either of them to touch it. "There, that should do the trick," she said and stepped into the doorway, nudging the door open further with her elbow, causing a bell to tinkle above her head and she peered into the dimly lit shop before stepping fully inside.

Ginny followed and allowed her eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting. Once she was able to see better she noticed that the gruesome wares in the window only scratched the surface of what the proprietors offered for sale within. In a far corner stood a complete human skeleton that appeared to still contain some muscle and sinew attached to the bones. A dusty glass cabinet to her immediate right contained various kinds of teeth, yellowed with age and sitting on top of the cabinet was a stuffed vulture that reeked of a preserving potion. Ginny wrinkled her nose up in disgust.

Hermione hadn't taken time to peruse the goods and instead had headed directly towards the counter at the rear of the shop. Ginny continued to wander around, completely horrified by the gruesomeness but unable to stop glancing at the items on the shelves and counters.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," a polite voice called from behind the curtains as they parted, revealing Narcissa Malfoy. Ginny was shocked at the older woman's appearance and found her mouth gaping open in a very rude and undignified manner. Narcissa's once beautiful face was lined with hard lines around her eyes and mouth, her hair was ill kept and her robes looked as if they were in need of a thorough cleaning. When the older witch saw Hermione standing at the counter and then Ginny over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed harshly and her lips formed a grim line.

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked, not sounding nearly as polite as she had moments ago.

Hermione pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from her robe pocket and smoothed it out on the counter. Ginny stepped up next to her friend and looked over her shoulder. It appeared to be a list of items, mostly herbs like lavender, mugwort, and sweet grass, which had all been scratched off. The remaining unmarked item on the list was a bag.

"Yes," Hermione began, the slight tremor in her voice the only indication that she was nervous. "I was wondering if you happened to carry a Hex Bag?"

Narcissa studied Hermione suspiciously. "And why would you need such an item?"

"Why do you think?" Ginny snapped, her eyes flaring and Narcissa turned her steely gaze towards her.

"We don't usually have customers making such a request," Narcissa remarked. "I'll have to check my inventory." She turned away without another word and disappeared behind the curtain.

"What are you doing, Hermione?" Ginny whispered. "We need to ask her to help us and if she says no, drag her forcibly back to the Ministry."

"I know that," Hermione responded. "But I do need the bag and this is actually the best place to obtain one. I thought we could break the ice with Narcissa and she'll be more willing to help us."

"Why wouldn't she want to help us?" Ginny hissed. "Her own son is being haunted, too!"

"Just leave this to me," Hermione assured Ginny. "We don't know how much Draco has told her."

"I don't care if he hasn't said word one to her," Ginny carped. "That thing we saw this morning was horrific, Hermione, and it was inside Josie! I can't even begin to fathom that and then it killed Robards right in front of us."

Hermione gasped. "Head Auror Robards is dead? How?"

"I have no idea," Ginny answered. "It flew through him. Perhaps it stopped his heart or something."

"Why was it inside Josie?" Hermione asked and Ginny's hand instinctually went to her belly and the sorrow that Tom had gleefully used Josie to kill the baby filled her again and tears sprang to her eyes. "Ginny?" Hermione asked, looking from Ginny's hand on her belly up to Ginny's eyes.

"It - it possessed Josie and I lost our baby," Ginny managed to utter.

Hermione's face looked stricken, understanding dawning in her eyes despite Ginny's inability to articulate clearly what had happened. "Oh Ginny!" Hermione pulled her in for a hug, whispering in her ear, "I'm so sorry."

Ginny allowed the warmth of Hermione's arms to envelope her and was grateful for her love and understanding.

"You lost your baby?" Narcissa's voice asked softly.

The two young witches pulled apart and Ginny wiped underneath her eyes with the knuckles of her fingers. Narcissa stood behind the counter once again and a silk black bag with red tassels lay on the countertop before her.

"Yes," Ginny stated. "A monster has already taken two lives and my baby. It's why we need that Hex Bag."

"The same monster who murdered my husband?" Narcissa quietly asked. "The one my son has nightmares about?"

"Yes," Ginny answered. "We need your help."

"I found a bag," Narcissa said, pushing it towards Hermione. "What else do you need?"

"Help us bind it," Hermione explained.

Narcissa looked down at her fingers still resting on the bag. "I've lost nearly everything because of him. An estranged sister, a dead sister and husband, and my son who thinks he would be better off dead. I understand the pain you are feeling, of not being able to protect your child from him."

"Please, help us," Ginny begged and Narcissa's shining blue eyes looked up into her pleading brown ones.

"I will," Narcissa whispered.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

For the first time in months, Draco stood in front of the sink and mirror in his cell and stared at his reflection. He thought, since he would be facing the Wizengamot in the morning he should at least try to make himself look presentable. Rubbing his hand once more over the stubble on his cheeks and jaw, he leaned over the sink and splashed ice cold water on his face before lathering on some shaving cream. He picked up the razor his morning guard had given him and dragged it through the cream covering his cheek. The razor was enchanted only to remove stubble and nothing more. He couldn't use it to attack his guards or in utter desperation kill himself, if he was so inclined.

Draco couldn't say he had ever entertained such thoughts as to take his own life, even locked up in this dreary place. However, he had to admit the past few weeks had been harder than the three years combined he had already spent in this place. Hopefully, if all went well tomorrow he would be free, and the only thing still hanging over his head would be the phantom menacing his dreams and threatening his hoped for future with Astoria. Draco had no idea where his friendship with the beautiful witch might lead, but he did know that he would do anything for her, and that was something he had never felt for anyone ever before. The idea that someone else's life was suddenly more important to him than his own was an alien concept to him.

Finishing up with the razor, he set it on the edge of the sink and ran his fingers through his still damp hair. It was stick straight, white-blond and long, brushing his shoulders and reminding him too much of his father. Looking at the entire picture in the mirror all Draco saw was his father staring back at him, and he wanted nothing more than to cut the offending locks off completely. Picking up the razor from where he had rested it, he pulled a hank of hair away from his face and attempted to run the razor through it. In response, the razor emitted a high-pitched wail and vanished from his hand.

Dropping the length of hair in disgust, Draco turned away from the mirror in time to see the guard outside his cell moving towards the door. Draco's eyes widened in fear as the guard raised his wand and unlocked the door, causing it to swing open.

"You've been summoned," the guard said, remaining outside the cell and beckoning down the hall. "Seems you're being transferred early for your hearing."

Draco eyed the guard suspiciously for a moment longer before stepping out of his cell. Without another the word, the guard turned and headed down the dimly lit corridor and Draco followed. He hadn't thought he would be leaving the relative safety of his cell until the morning. Since Warden Singh had erected the ward around his cell, Draco had only been plagued by nightmares of the creature he had seen, and the presence he had felt in the past had been muted. While Draco longed to be free of the prison, part of him was fearful what this would mean. He was frightened that once he was outside the confines of Azkaban the spirit would pursue him with a vengeance and Astoria may be in greater danger.

Instead of entering the door that would lead to the interrogation and visitation rooms, the guard led Draco on to the door he had entered through over three years ago when he had arrived. He remembered them taking his robes and producing his wand, which he hadn't seen since that fateful night in Malfoy Manor when Potter had taken it from him. They'd boxed it up with the robe and a few other meagre belongings Draco had had while imprisoned at the Ministry and banished it to a file room somewhere deep in the bowels of the rock the prison was situated on. Following the guard into the room, Draco was surprised to see Potter and Weasley standing behind the reception desk, already in possession of the box Draco knew contained his personal effects.

"I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow," Draco said warily to the two Aurors. Weasley was openly glaring at him, but Potter's face was much more resigned and distant.

"We're taking you early in order to avoid the press," Potter responded, his eyes glancing briefly at the guard standing to Draco's right. "We've already cleared it with Warden Singh."

Draco looked between the two Aurors as Weasley pulled out his wand and pointed it at him.

"We came prepared this time," Weasley growled. "In case you get any not so bright ideas to try and attack us."

"That would be a foolish thing for me to try the day before my hearing," Draco drawled.

"Didn't stop you before!" Weasley spat.

"I wasn't in a right frame of mind then," Draco defended himself and his actions.

"As if you are any better now," Weasley countered. "You know what you have brought down on Harry and my sister."

"Shut it, Ron. We can discuss Malfoy's hearing when we return to the office," Potter's voice exuded a quiet authority that brooked no argument and Weasley closed his mouth immediately. Instead, he stepped forward and curtly nodded to Draco to turn around.

Reluctantly, Draco did so and Weasley roughly pulled his arms behind his back and bound his wrists, tightening them more than was necessary. Draco winced as they pinched the delicate flesh at the back of his wrist, but said nothing and only shot Weasley a glare over his shoulder. Weasley ignored him and pushed Draco unceremoniously towards the Apparition point. The Binding Spell Weasley had used on him must have also contained a charm with a magical signature to allow Draco to pass through the invisible wards surrounding the point. Usually, only Azkaban guards and members of the Auror Office were allowed to pass freely through it.

Weasley followed promptly after him, still firmly gripping Draco's upper arm and waited for Potter to collect the box and join them. Potter silently gave Weasley affirmation that he was ready and Weasley dragged Draco over to the centre of the point. While Draco was concerned by Weasley's rough manner, he had to admit he was even more concerned by Potter's lack of communication. It didn't bode well for him, he didn't think, and he almost would rather take his chances with Weasley and leave Potter out of the equation all together.

"Hold on, Malfoy," Weasley hissed. "You're in for a bumpy ride."

Draco detested Side-Along Apparating and braced himself for the nausea that was sure to assault him. He was certain Weasley would take great delight in seeing him vomit, but Draco was determined to not give him the satisfaction. Weasley twisted roughly on the spot and the world spun sickeningly around Draco. He hadn't Apparated in over three years, so the sensation was worse than he remembered it being. All the same, he was glad to see the depressing grey walls of Azkaban disappear, even if he still really didn't understand why Weasley and Potter had come to retrieve him a day early.

They appeared in the reception area of the Auror Office and Weasley immediately let go of Draco's arm, causing him to stumble, but miraculously he remained standing. A sigh of disappointment escaped Weasley's lips and Draco couldn't help the smug grin that appeared on his face with the thought that he hadn't given Weasley the pleasure of seeing him fall.

In retaliation, Weasley grabbed Draco by the scruff of the neck and shoved him away from the Apparition point and further into the reception area. The office appeared to be in bedlam, officers were rushing around looking harried and a pretty girl behind the reception desk looked hopefully over at where Draco and Weasley were standing. Draco's cheeks burned with humiliation over his treatment.

"Ron," she called, apparently unfazed by Weasley's treatment of him . "Head Auror Williamson was wondering when Harry would be back."

"Any moment," Weasley replied, nodding his head towards the Apparition point behind him.

As if in answer, Potter appeared and stepped past Weasley and Draco to address the girl.

"Monat, we need a secure interrogation room," Potter said without preamble and Monat nodded, pulling out a book to see what was available.

"Room 3 is free, Harry," Monat replied. "But Head Auror Williamson was asking for you."

Potter grimaced. "I imagine. Please tell him Ron and I are on official business for Minister Shacklebolt. That should appease him for the time being."

She nodded and went back to her previous work. Potter looked over at Weasley and then led the way down the corridor to a door standing open. He stepped inside, set the box he was still carrying on the table and moved to the far side of the table while Weasley guided Draco in and shut the door behind him.

Surprisingly, the interrogation room was very similar to the ones at Azkaban and Draco grimaced. Weasley moved to stand by Potter and aimed his wand towards Draco. Draco's eyes widened, fearing for a moment that Weasley was going to hex him now that they were in a secure and somewhat private location, but instead Weasley sent a locking and privacy charm past Draco's shoulder.

"Dramatic," Potter commented, looking over at his friend.

Weasley shrugged, lowering his wand, but keeping it casually aimed in Draco's general direction. "Have a seat, Malfoy," he growled.

Draco eyed the chair in front of him, but neither of the Aurors in the room appeared to be inclined to sit and he wasn't about to make himself any more vulnerable than he already was.

"I'd rather stand."

"Suit yourself," Weasley spat and backed up to lean against the wall, while Potter continued to study Draco silently. His steady green gaze made Draco distinctly uncomfortable.

"This isn't about my hearing tomorrow," Draco stated dumbly.

"No, it isn't," Potter said slowly. "It's about our unwanted guest."

"Our unwanted guest?" Draco asked.

"Seems like you've brought your demons down upon me," Potter said. "Mission accomplished. The Dark Lord would be proud of you."

Draco blanched at how calmly Potter said this when his green eyes were blazing with unconcealed anger.

"I had a visitor yesterday," Potter continued. "Two, actually. One real, flesh and blood and the other, phantasmal. Care to guess who they were?"

Draco shook his head and waited for Potter to go on.

"My first was Astoria Greengrass and she had some very interesting things to say," Potter said, and Draco felt his cheeks flush at the mention of her name. "She told me the manifestation in your cell threatened you with her life. Is this true?"

Draco had never mentioned his pseudo-relationship with Astoria to Potter because he hadn't thought Potter would care about that detail. "Yes," he whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me that the first time you called me out to Azkaban," Potter asked.

"As I recall, we spent most of the time arguing," Draco answered. "You didn't really give me a chance to explain anything."

Potter laughed bitterly. "Always quick to blame someone else, Malfoy."

"You asked," Draco retorted.

"Do you believe her life is in danger?" Potter simply asked.

"Yes."

"Do you care for her?"

"Yes."

"Would you do anything for her?"

"Yes."

Potter raised an eyebrow at this and Weasley snorted behind him. Draco's cheeks burned with anger that they would judge him so, but he wasn't embarrassed to admit he cared for Astoria.

"Good," Potter said, accepting Draco's answer. "Because I need your help ridding us of the thing inflicting nightmares, pain, and death upon us."

"You've seen it, too?" Draco asked, hope filling him that finally Potter truly believed him.

"My second visitor," Potter explained. "Not nearly as pleasant as Astoria and it made its presence indisputably known. It hurt Ginny, destroyed one of her friend's lives and murdered Head Auror Robards, and in retaliation you, me, Ginny, Astoria, and your mother are going to put it in its place."

"You're bringing Astoria into this?" Draco asked, fear gripping his heart at the thought.

"She's already in this," Potter responded. "She all but admitted she was your significant other. How that is even possible, I don't even want to know, but if you are being plagued by nightmares that she is being threatened, then it's only a matter of time before she is touched by this darkness, too."

"I don't want that monster anywhere near her," Draco spat. "Binding Rituals are dangerous. What if we fail?"

"We won't," Potter responded. "Consider this your chance at redemption; to make up for all the acts you attempted to do in the name of the Dark Lord. Maybe this time you won't fail."

"I really hate you," Draco seethed.

"I know and believe me the feeling is mutual," Potter answered. "But who do you really hate more? Me or him?"

"I've asked myself that exact same question since all this began," Draco admitted.

"What's the answer?" Potter pressed, lifting the lid off the box and pulling Draco's hawthorn wand from within and holding it lightly in his left hand.

"I hate him," Draco said. "I hate him more and more each day." He gazed at his wand longingly. He couldn't even remember what it felt like to hold it in his hand anymore.

Potter swished the wand through the air towards him and Draco felt the bindings melt away. He brought his hands from behind his back and rubbed at his red, aching wrists.

Potter considered him a moment before holding the wand out to Draco. "Take it from me."

"What?" both Weasley and Draco asked in shock.

"Take it," Potter insisted. "We can't afford for anyone's magic to be weakened. Become your wand's rightful master again."

Draco stared at Potter a moment longer, but couldn't see any sign of trickery evident. Reaching out slowly he tightly gripped the wand above Potter's hand. He felt a tingle of magic surge through his hand and Draco tugged on the wand to claim it once again. He felt a momentary resistance from Potter, and he was fearful that it had all been a trick, after all, but then the wand slid free and Draco exhaled the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

As the wand left Potter's fingers, Draco felt his magic flowing down his arm through his fingertips and into it. The wand was as good as his again, however, he also felt invisible strings attached. Potter had freely given him the wand back, and Draco realized by accepting the gesture he had just forged an unspoken alliance with his old foe. Looking up, his pale blue eyes locked with Potter's knowing green ones, and without any conscious thought, Draco nodded his head in silent affirmation.


	18. Ch 17 - The Binding Ritual

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to Arnel and seekers_destiny for taking time out of their busy schedules to beta this for me. They work hard everybody! Also, a special thank you to Mutt n Feathers for looking this over and ensuring that the ritual read true. Apparently, she is a ritual expert! Thank you! I referenced Phil Hine's _An Introduction to Banishing Rituals_ to create the incantation for the first part of the Binding Ritual. Enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

It was nearing midnight by the time Hermione had versed Harry in the machinations of the Binding Ritual. He sat in a chair shoved in the corner of Hermione's office at the Ministry looking over the invocation one final time with Ginny, who was perched on the arm of the chair next to him. Hermione sat at her desk preparing a cleansing tincture to be used before and during the ritual. She was adding the last of the ingredients to the already steaming cauldron.

While Harry had been reviewing the ritual Ginny had helped Hermione prepare the herbs by julienning, dicing, and grinding them into a powder where needed. Cilantro to help bring them peace and attune with their souls. Copal, a dried tree resin, for its purification properties. Lavender for purification as well as protection. Mugwort to increase the power of the binding circle and enable astral travel. Pine to promote a clean break, cleansing, purification, and repelling negative energy. Sage for purification and also for removing negative energy. Finally, sweetgrass to call the spirit.

Hermione stared at the pale liquid swirling in the cauldron and watched the minced blades of sweetgrass slowly dissolve. She had incredible misgivings over deliberately calling the spirit of the soul shard to them, but glancing over at her two friends, Hermione knew they had little choice. The sadness over the loss of their baby was clear in both Harry's and Ginny's eyes and they had not had time to properly process or grieve the loss. Hermione was determined to aid them any way she could to put an end to the nightmare they had suddenly found themselves in. If that meant calling an evil spirit, then so be it.

Pulling a large flagon from her robe pocket, Hermione ladled the potion into it until it was full and set it to the side of her desk before picking up a book. The leather cover was dry and cracked and the pages within were thin. The light from the lamp shone through a page she had marked, and perusing the text for a moment, she leaned down to open a drawer in her desk and pulled out a small coin purse. Opening the purse, she poured a handful of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts into her hand, counting out five of the copper Knuts, which she set aside. Dumping the remaining money back in her coin purse, she dropped it back in her drawer, closed the drawer, and turned to Harry and Ginny.

"All we need now is the branch from the clearing in the Forbidden Forest Professor McGonagall sent us," she said.

"What's that for again, Hermione?" Ginny asked, looking up from the invocation.

"We needed something tangible from the place of death," Hermione explained. "During the ritual Harry will need to place it along with Tom's wand within the Hex Bag."

"Minerva sent it to Kingsley," Harry said. "He will bring it with him."

"Then that's everything," Hermione announced. "Are you ready?" She looked at Harry expectantly.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said, folding the parchment the invocation was written on and shoving it in his pocket.

Nodding, Hermione gathered up all the items needed for the ritual, including the Hex Bag, and they headed towards the lift, taking it down to level nine. Stepping out of the lift, they faced the lone door at the end of the hall.

"I haven't been here since my fourth year," Ginny remarked.

"I have, occasionally," Hermione commented as they approached the black door. She pushed the door open and they stepped into the circular chamber. "Do you notice anything different?"

Ginny and Harry glanced around the room, that still contained doors that were unmarked to confuse anyone who was not authorized to be there. Harry walked to the centre of the room and slowly turned around in a circle before facing Hermione again.

"There are thirteen doors now," Harry answered.

"Yes," Hermione replied, waving her wand at the doors. "Show me the Horcrux Room."

A door on their left glowed yellow around the seams and a symbol Harry didn't recognize appeared in the centre of the door. It was a cracked diamond with a jagged line rising out from between the cracks. The line reminded him of a snake and Ginny shuddered next to him.

"What is that, Hermione," he asked, pointing at the symbol.

"It's the sign of a Horcrux," Hermione offered.

"Too bad we didn't know all we had to do was ask for the proper door when we were here looking for the prophecy," Ginny complained.

"It wouldn't have worked for us then," Hermione explained. "We were unauthorized personnel."

"Well," Harry said. "Like last time, we don't have much choice in the matter. We have to enter."

Taking a deep breath, and gripping Ginny's hand for reassurance, Harry stepped inside the Horcrux Room for the first time. It was a plain, round stone chamber with a couple of wooden tables and benches against one wall for use whenever someone cared to examine the artefacts stored within. Said artefacts were locked inside a glass fronted heavy oak cabinet that was situated next to the tables and benches. A soft yellow light shone inside, illuminating the seven objects within.

Nagini's skeleton lay coiled around herself on the first shelf as if she were resting as she had in life. Hufflepuff's cup and the diary sat on the second shelf and the top shelf held Slytherin's locket, Gaunt's ring sans the Resurrection Stone, and Ravenclaw's diadem. All the items were blackened, mangled wrecks of their former glory.

Tom's snapped wand lay on a black cloth in front of the shelves. Harry despised the entire display immediately.

"It's like a shrine to him," he uttered.

"It gives me the collywobbles," Ginny replied with a shudder. "The evil still lingers here. I can feel him watching us."

"He will fight it," Harry admitted. "He'll play on our darkest fears and insecurities. Are you prepared?"

"I am," Ginny nodded, before looking up at him, the worry clear in her eyes. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't frightened, Harry."

Harry pulled her into a tight embrace, gently brushing her hair with his hand. Allowing them some privacy, Hermione busied herself at one of the tables, setting out the cleansing tincture and the Hex Bag.

"It's all right to be scared," Harry murmured. "So am I."

Ginny's arms tightened around him and Harry pressed soft kisses on the crown of her head, before ducking his head to capture her lips with his own.

"How utterly touching," Draco's voice, dripping with sarcasm, interrupted their brief kiss.

Harry and Ginny broke apart to see that Ron and Kingsley had entered, escorting Draco, Narcissa, and Astoria.

"Shut your trap, Malfoy!" Ron snarled. "We all know what your hangup with a bit of affection are."

"Oh, what's that, Weasley?" Draco shot back.

"That everyone finds out what a small..."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Brain!" Ron explained. "I was going to say brain!"

"You'd know all about that, Weasley," Draco sneered. "Good thing you married someone semi-literate."

"Why, thank you, Draco," Hermione mockingly gushed. "Coming from you that is a compliment."

"I guess you take what you can get, Granger," Draco drawled.

"Why you..." Ron began, but Hermione stopped him with a placating hand and Malfoy ignored him to step further into the room and glance around.

"What is this place?" he asked, staring about him.

"The Horcrux Room," Kingsley explained and Narcissa gasped as she stepped closer to the cabinet to examine the contents within.

"What's a Horcrux?" Astoria asked, coming up next to Draco and slipping her hand in his.

"A fragment of a wizard's soul," Harry explained. "Tom stored the pieces in these artefacts. It was his way of ensuring he would have immortality."

"Until we destroyed them all, that is," Ron interjected. "Stupid git didn't think about that."

Astoria and Draco joined his mother next to the cabinet and peered within. "The diary from my dreams and our second year is here. It was a Horcrux?" Draco observed, the disbelief and revulsion clear in his voice.

"Yes," Ginny answered, and Narcissa turned away from the cabinet to gaze over at her.

"I had heard rumours the Dark Lord was delving in the vilest of the Dark Arts," she murmured. "I had no idea the extent of his depravity."

Ron snorted in disbelief. "The wanker lived with you for over two years and you had no idea he was a raving lunatic?"

"My only concern was what befell my son," Narcissa admitted. "As it was, I was powerless to prevent the Dark Lord from torturing Draco for failing him over the course of those two years."

"That's awful!" Hermione gasped in shock, looking between Narcissa and Draco.

"I don't want your pity, Granger!" Draco hissed.

"Don't talk to my wife that way!" Ron shouted, stepping towards Draco.

"What is wrong with you two?" Astoria exclaimed. "Can anyone here honestly say they have never made a mistake?

"Astoria's right," Harry stated sternly. "We've all made choices that have cost or nearly cost lives. Whether we fought for the light or the dark, we all have had demons to overcome. Today we need to put any animosity we may still feel towards one another aside if we have any hope of accomplishing the task at hand."

Ron and Draco continued to glare at one another until Harry stepped between them.

"I need you two, especially, to do your best to work together," he implored. "Two people have already died because of this thing, and two others have been reduced to vegetables. Anyone, possibly someone in this room could be next and we need to stop it before it gets any more out of hand than it already is."

"We really need positive energy for this to work properly," Hermione lectured. "There will be enough negative energy coming from the ghost. We're not sure what it is after, but I can't imagine it will be happy that we are attempting to bind it to the Forbidden Forest."

"I think we all can agree that we would like to see this demon exorcised," Narcissa intervened, looking pointedly at her son.

Draco bowed his head. "You're right, Mother."

"Then let's listen to what Hermione and Harry say needs to be done," Narcissa commanded.

Hermione looked startled by Narcissa's statement, but quickly took control of the situation to explain the basic mechanics of the ritual. "Ron, Kingsley, and myself will merely be observers," Hermione explained, glancing around at the group. "The rest of you will be forming the circle of power."

"What does that entail?" Narcissa asked.

"Harry will be leading the ritual, and merely drawing on your magical energy," Hermione explained.

"How?" Astoria inquired.

"Through a circle I'll draw on the floor," Hermione replied, taking a piece of white chalk from her robes. Waving her wand, the chalk drew a large pentagram upon the floor, and then a circle around the pentagram, connecting all five points within the circle. "You'll each stand at a point on the pentagram, with Harry at the apex. Ginny and Draco will be next to Harry on his right and left respectively and Narcissa and Astoria will stand at the bottom left and right points."

"Is that it?" Draco asked, already moving to the point Hermione had indicated. "Let's get this over with, then."

"Not quite," Hermione answered, picking up the flagon of cleansing potion from the table behind her. "We need to cleanse the circle so it is pure and call the spirit."

"Stop right there," Astoria said. "You're 'calling' the Dark Lord's spirit to us?"

"It's the only way to bind it," Hermione answered.

"I thought it would simply happen," Ron stated. "I didn't think it would be in the room with us. Hermione, you told me the whole reason we were performing the ritual here was to avoid dealing with the spirit's retribution once it is bound."

"We will avoid it. It's presence here should be brief," Hermione explained. "Once the ritual is completed it will move on to the clearing in the Forbidden Forest."

Draco snorted. "Not so brave now, are you Weasley?"

"As if you have any room to talk," Ron snarled.

"I've changed!" Draco protested.

"Prove it!" Ron growled, glaring over at the Slytherin.

"ENOUGH!" Harry shouted, causing everyone to stop and look at him. "This is exactly what the bloody thing wants us to do! Have you learned nothing from the past? You especially, Ron."

"I told you I was going to have a hard time with this," Ron retorted.

"Get over it. Now!" Harry demanded. "I'm tired of having to tell you two to give it a rest."

"Not to mention, I'm sick of listening to the both of you bicker like an old married couple," Ginny muttered. Both Ron and Draco looked highly affronted by this remark and everyone nervously chuckled at the momentary reprieve.

"She's right," Astoria agreed. "While I do find your verbal sparring entertaining, now is not the time or the place." She smiled kindly over at Draco, whose face blazed with anger and humiliation.

"Perhaps we all should try focusing our minds on the task at hand and call upon our inner peace while Hermione spreads the tincture around us," Narcissa calmly suggested.

"I think that's a marvellous suggestion," Hermione agreed. "Gather around the outside of the drawn pentagram and I'll encircle us with the tincture. The properties of the potion should actually aid us in releasing any more negative energy we may have within us." She glanced pointedly between Draco and Ron as she said this.

"Let's take in deep cleansing breaths to calm ourselves," Narcissa commanded.

She and Astoria drew Draco away from Ron and towards the bottom of the pentagram. The two men avoided making eye contact and instead stared at the floor as they inhaled and exhaled. The room became silent as they all turned their thoughts inward. Harry took Ginny's hand in his and drew her to the side of the star, while Ron and Kingsley remained where they had been standing above the apex of the star. Opening the flagon, Hermione began to walk silently around them all, generously sprinkling the tincture on the floor a few metres beyond the drawn circle.

While she was working, Kingsley quietly moved away from the group and opened the Horcrux cabinet to withdraw Tom's wand. A sudden wind blew through the room, startling everyone and whipping their hair about their heads as soon as his hand closed around the wand.

Astoria gazed around the room with wide eyes, and clung to Draco, who placed an arm around her shoulders. His mother stood at his other side offering silent support, while her expression remained calm and impassive, as she stared over at Kingsley. He held the broken wand firmly in his hand and closed the door to the cabinet.

A black smoke drifted through the walls and, caught in the wind, swirled with a tornado-effect around the walls of the room. Everyone instinctually moved closer towards the centre of the liquid ring Hermione was creating. Tendrils of smoke lashed out at them, reaching especially towards Kingsley, who guarded the broken wand close to his chest while aiming his own wand at the entity as he returned to the boundaries of the protective circle.

"Don't cast any spells at it," Harry quietly called to all the others, as they raised their wands towards the tornado as well.

"Why?" Astoria asked, flicking her eyes away from the thing to glance over at Harry.

"It's just a precaution," Harry answered, not wanting to alarm anyone further with tales of how Robards had died. "We don't want to rile it up any more than it already is. Almost done, Hermione?"

Nodding, Hermione finished sprinkling the potion, closing the circle and the wind died down immediately. The black tornado dispersed and the smoke seeped back into the walls once again.

"It's nearly exactly like what I first saw," Draco uttered. "Only it was thicker then. I thought it was mud."

"That wasn't so bad," Ron offered hopefully.

"I imagine it may get worse before it gets better," Ginny surmised, looking shaken.

"Most likely," Hermione agreed and looked over the group. "If everyone remembers where they are supposed to stand, perhaps we should begin."

Draco whispered quietly in Astoria's ear before stepping away from her and his mother and taking his spot on the top left point. The two Slytherin women moved to their respective spots at the bottom of the star. Ginny looked up at Harry and smiled nervously, squeezing his hand one last time.

"No matter what has happened or may, I love you," she whispered, standing on her toes to kiss him softly.

"I know," Harry replied. "Me too."

Reluctant to let go, but knowing he had to, Harry released her hand to stand at the apex and Ginny moved to his right. He watched her take her place next to him and began inhaling through his nose, and slowly exhaling through his mouth.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered, handing him the flagon and five copper Knuts, before stepping back to stand behind him next to Ron, who was holding his wand loosely in his hand and casually aiming it in Draco's direction. Draco stood at the top left point and didn't seem to notice or care that Ron was watching him, as his attention was solely on Astoria who still looked very pale and frightened. Harry couldn't worry too much about them at the moment, since his only concern was Ginny's safety and well-being. He hated that she had to be a part of this ritual at all, and hoped in the end she would be able to forgive him for allowing things to progress as far as they had.

Hermione had drawn the star on the floor so that when Harry stood at the apex, he was not only facing the four other participants, but East as well. Hermione had been very adamant on the importance that the ritual begin with him facing that way, as apparently, facing East signified drawing upon the power of the rising sun. He stared at a point on the wall between Astoria and Narcissa, continuing to breathe regularly and tilted his chin slightly upwards, attempting to clear his head of any thought other than the task at hand.

Taking one more slow, calming breath and vaguely aware that Ginny, Draco, Astoria, and Narcissa were either consciously or unconsciously breathing in unison with him, Harry raised his wand arm upwards as he took another breath in. As he blew the breath out, he brought his arm down the centreline of his body, and a shimmering white line appeared in the air from the tip of his wand, travelling from above his head all the way to the floor when he had finished drawing his wand through the air.

Turning his head to the left he locked eyes briefly with Draco's wide grey ones, before raising his left arm straight out from his side and drawing his wand arm across his body from right to left. The white beam of light continued, cutting horizontally across the one still shimmering vertically in the air in front of him.

The cross of light he had just created glowed brighter and flowed toward Harry. Its light dispersed around him as he felt a surge of energy course through him. The circle was already drawing on the magical power of the four other participants, but despite the sudden hyper-sensitivity to the magic flowing around him, Harry still felt calm and relaxed. Lifting his gaze to the stone ceiling above, he waved his wand and the illusion of the night sky disguised the ceiling to the point that he could almost believe it was real. The stars twinkled against the blue-black curtain, and he could make out the constellations of _Leo_ and _Virgo_.

Returning his gaze towards the East, Harry raised his wand again and slowly drew a glowing white pentagram in the air in front of him. He started at the apex, drawing it down to Narcissa at the left-hand point, across to Ginny on his upper right, over to Draco on his left, down to Astoria at the lower right and finally back up to the apex. The pentagram hovered in the air; growing larger with each breath in and out Harry took, until it was the size of the chalk one drawn on the floor.

Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, Harry pointed his wand into the centre of the glowing pentagram and it began to pulse, growing brighter as he began the first part of the incantation.

"Here flares five points of a star," he began, before casting his eyes upwards, "Above us, the eternal stars." He glanced back down and looked at Ginny, Malfoy, Astoria, and Narcissa before continuing. "Within us, flames a star. Every man and woman is a star. We are a circle of stars."

As he had spoken each line, the star had grown brighter and brighter until it was shining as brightly as the sun, making the stars above them fade and the sky to turn a bright blue. As Harry withdrew and lowered his wand, the star tilted until it was hovering parallel to its counterpart drawn on the floor. Slowly it floated towards the floor and merged with the chalk drawing. Fusing together, the bright white light paled to shimmering silver.

Hermione now levitated the Hex Bag to hover in front of Harry as Kingsley handed him the branch from the clearing in the Forbidden Forest and Tom's snapped wand. Grasping both of these items firmly in his left hand, Harry held them over the opening of the bag.

"Spirit!" he called to the air around him. "We bind thee to the place of your death." He dropped the branch and wand into the bag and the pentagram flared up around it. A black cloud rolled across the ceiling and covered the night sky Harry had created. It hung in the air above the Hex Bag, a tail of it seemingly connected to the two items within and Draco inhaled sharply at the sight. Harry glanced over at him, but the Slytherin's eyes were glued to the ominous cloud, watching it warily, while both Astoria and Narcissa looked ready to bolt at any moment. Looking over at Ginny, she met Harry's gaze and he was relieved to see fierce determination lighting her eyes instead of the fear reflected in the other's eyes.

Reaching into the pocket of his robes, Harry withdrew the five Knuts Hermione had given him before the start of the ritual. With a flick of his wand, he sent them soaring to land at their feet. The star flared again and the silvery light turned a pale copper.

"Let this copper serve as our torch," Harry proclaimed. The ominous black cloud began to emit a low wail and flashes of red shot within it.

It roiled about itself, twisting and billowing until a figure rose out of it. Ginny watched, fearful that the creature that had appeared in Josie's room was forming again, but instead _Monat's_ pretty face and figure became apparent. She stared at it in confusion as _Monat's _blank eyes bore into her own.

"_He thinks I'm beautiful and admires my caramel skin,_" she sneered. "_You look deathly. He wishes you looked like me."_

"No," Ginny uttered, shaking her head. "That's not true."

"_And me,_" the thing said as its features changed to _Willow's_ and her long blonde hair waved in the wind behind her. "_He lusts for my long legs."_

Ginny's face crumpled in anguish as she stared at the vision of her best friend, wearing the skimpy outfit that did accentuate her long, shapely legs that Harry had admired.

"You know that's not true. Don't listen to it, Ginny," Harry pleaded. "You know I think you're the most beautiful woman on the earth."

"I know," Ginny agreed, glaring up at _Willow _who screamed in rage before dispersing into another visage.

_Daphne Greengrass _gazed coldly down upon her sister. "_You little cretin. You'll always be half the witch I am. Why, you're practically a Squib, and mother and father should disown you._"

"No," Astoria cried. "No. Why are you always so cruel to me?"

"Because you are beautiful," Draco answered. "It lies and so does your sister. She was always jealous of you."

"Really?" Astoria asked, tearing her eyes away from her _sister _to gaze over at Malfoy.

"Yes," Draco assured her. "She complained about boys fancying you more than her all the time."

The black cloud wasn't going to give up that easily and once again shifted its shape, coalescing into the form of _Lucius Malfoy_. His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer as he gazed down upon Draco. Draco visibly cringed at the sight of his dead father and the sneer grew as it gazed at him and his mother.

"_I enjoyed having your sister,_" it gloated, staring Narcissa down. "_At least she actually participated in our bed. Quite energetically, unlike you._

"_And you're just the snivelling spawn of your mother's coldness. A coward,_" it spat, glaring at Draco before the sneer turned to a frown. "_But, so was I. You are just like me."_

"I am not!" Draco angrily shouted. "I'm nothing like you!"

"_You hide behind those who you think are more powerful than you, as I did,_" the creature admonished. "_But why Potter? He's as weak as you, if not weaker._"

The monster's form changed yet again and the image of _Albus Dumbledore_ appeared. He looked immensely disappointed when he spied Harry and shook his head sadly.

"_I had such high hopes for you, Harry, and you have disappointed me,_" it said.

Even though Harry knew it was a trick, his face fell at the idea that Albus could possibly be disappointed in him.

"Shut up, you bloody bastard!" Ginny screamed.

_Dumbledore _looked at Ginny in shock. "_Ginevra, how can you speak to your former headmaster that way?_"

"You're not my headmaster, and never were!" Ginny spat. "He never called me Ginevra, especially after my first year. Don't listen to him, Harry. You're not weak and Albus would be proud of you for what you have accomplished. Finish this bastard NOW!"

Shoving the false feelings the creature was eliciting aside, Harry pulled the flagon of the cleansing tincture from within his robes. Uncapping it with his wand, he splashed it towards _Dumbledore_, and its mouth dropped open to emit an ear-splitting wail of fury. Resisting the urge to cover his ears and noting that everyone else was fighting the same instinctual reaction towards the unearthly sound, Harry forged ahead, having to shout to be heard.

"Let the cleansing aroma of these herbs repel thee!" he yelled pouring the remaining tincture inside the Hex Bag. When it left the flagon and made contact with the wand and branch already inside the bag, a large grey cloud rose up out of the bag and engulfed the black cloud that contained Dumbledore's image, dispersing it. The screeching became nearly unbearable and Harry quickly continued with the last line of the incantation.

"Go, and roam the earth no more!" he shouted. The glowing copper pentagram flared around them, as the black and grey clouds swirled in air above the Hex Bag. The five points of the star shot beams of light through the heart of the cloud, meeting in the middle. When the points met, the light burst out of the cloud and engulfed Harry.

As soon as the light hit him, the scar on Harry's forehead exploded in pain. Clutching his head, he doubled over in agony as the high-pitched scream that had been reverberating around the room now filled his head. It was worse than anything he had suffered under the Cruciatus Curse and he just wanted it to stop. He fell to his knees as alternating flashes of red and black burst behind his closed eyelids. He thought he heard Ginny screaming at him, but he seemed to be becoming lost in the pain and swirling colours.

"Harry!" Ginny screeched, stepping from her place in the circle and rushing to his side. She reached her hands to try to catch him before he fell, but an invisible force shoved her violently back. She fell on her back and slid several metres across the floor.

"Ginny!" Ron cried and ran to her.

Hermione and Kingsley attempted to reach for Harry as well, but met the same barrier that flung them away, just as it had Ginny. Kingsley stumbled against the Horcrux cabinet, causing the items within to clatter about on the shelves. Hermione caught herself on a nearby table, spun around to brace herself against it and stared aghast at her best friend.

Astoria and Narcissa stood riveted to their spots in the circle, clearly afraid of moving while Draco sidled slowly away from Harry. He pointed his wand directly at his old foe's chest as he inched towards the door of the room.

Ginny pushed herself up to a sitting position, brushed Ron's helping hands away and was horrified to see her husband being levitated off the floor.

"Hermione!" she screamed over at the bushy-haired woman who was gaping at the spectacle with terrified hazel eyes. "What is happening?"

Hermione looked over at Ginny and Ron in confusion. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" Ginny shrieked, lunging towards Harry once again, only to be held back by Ron.

"No!" her brother roared in her ear.

Ginny struggled against him, slapping at his arms and face. "Let me go, Ron! We have to do something! Harry!"

Harry's body slowly spun above the circle and the air around them seemed to pulse as a scream reverberated around the room.

The screaming in his head turned to a horribly familiar high-pitched laugh and Harry's stomach roiled violently.

_"Mine,"_ the laughing voice whispered in his ear.


	19. Ch 18 - Into the Green Light

**Author's Notes: **I posted this on another site and I will tell you now, the responses I received were either that the readers loved it or absolutely hated it. This was a hard chapter to write, and I can't tell you the number of times I deleted everything I had written and started over. Thanks for Arnel, seekers_destiny, and Brennus for their beta work. They are awesome!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Ginny watched helplessly while Harry continued to spin above the pentagram. The Hex Bag had fallen to the floor when Hermione had been thrown back from the shield and her levitation spell had been broken. The black and grey clouds, flashing with coppery light, swelled out of the bag, coiling around Harry's body like writhing snakes. His robes and hair billowed in the electrically charged air and jagged bolts of lightning crashed into the floor beneath his feet, cracking the stone and sending bits of rubble to swirl in the vortex surrounding him.

Harry's arms and legs stiffened and his body began to shudder uncontrollably. His eyes clenched shut, his face contorted in extreme agony, and his mouth dropped open to emit a bloodcurdling scream. The air in the room pulsed with the sound.

Draco sprinted towards the door, gathering Narcissa and Astoria along the way and attempted to open the door in order to escape.

"_Alohomora!"_ he shouted, waving his wand at the door repeatedly. When nothing happened, he threw his weight against it with a grunt, yelping in pain when his shoulder crunched against the unyielding wood. He turned away from the sealed door, rubbing his shoulder and looking frantically about for another exit.

Harry's screaming stopped, replaced by a horribly familiar, high-pitched laugh that made everyone's blood run cold.

"_Mine," _the laughing voice of Tom whispered.

"No," Ginny gasped.

"What have we done?" Hermione asked, pulling the thin, leather-bound book of rituals from her robes and frantically flipping through it. "We were wrong about the place of death." She looked over at Ginny with terrified eyes.

"Undo it," Ginny demanded. "There has to be a way to unbind him."

"Bloody hell, what?!" Ron exclaimed. "Are you two saying what I think you are saying?" He stared up at his best mate, who continued to spin in the electrical storm, laughing Tom Riddle's laugh.

A yell from the other side of the room and a flash of red drew their attention away from each other and towards the Slytherins still clustered by the door.

"Draco! No!" Astoria screamed, as the Stunning Spell he had sent hurtling towards Harry rebounded off the invisible shield and sent him crashing into the wall behind him. He slumped to the floor in a daze, and Astoria and Narcissa immediately knelt beside him.

"I don't think I need to inform anyone not to try that again," Kingsley commented softly.

Lightning flickered forbiddingly once again within the clouds around Harry. His eyes snapped open, revealing evil red slits that caused Ginny's heart to sink to the bottom of her stomach.

"_No, no, you can't get away,_" Tom hissed.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Ron muttered moments before the flickering clouds exploded with massive bolts of lightning that sent them all running. The room did not afford them much in the way of cover aside from the two tables, a couple of benches and the Horcrux cabinet.

Astoria screamed again as fiery bolts struck around the Slytherins still on the far side of the room, and huge chunks of rock fell from the ceiling.

Narcissa hastily cast a shield over them. Most of the rubble bounced off to roll across the floor, but a sizable chunk glanced off her shoulder before she could properly erect the shield, and she gave a small cry of pain. She managed to maintain finish casting the spell and a weak shield flickered around the three Slytherins. Astoria attempted to revive Draco. Narcissa was bowing under the pressure of the shield and Kingsley went to aid them, only to be caught off guard and struck by a bolt of lightning that sent him flying into the Horcrux cabinet. The glass in the doors shattered, tinkling to the floor, and he landed with a gasp, his robes singed and smoking where he had been struck.

Ron shoved the benches away from the tables and pushed a protesting Ginny and Hermione over to them before running a zig-zagging path back towards Kingsley, barely avoiding being struck himself. Scrambling under one table with Hermione, Ginny levitated the other, directing it towards the Slytherins.

Having shaken off his deflected Stunning Spell with Astoria's aid, Draco took over guiding the table and settling it on the floor in front of them. He then helped Astoria crawl underneath the table before turning to help his mother. Narcissa, her arm shaking from the attempt to keep the shield erect under the bombardment of lightning, backed slowly towards the table.

Ron had managed to heft Kingsley up, draping the dazed wizard's arm around his neck. Kingsley struggled to move his numbed legs, but they mostly dragged uselessly along with Ron carrying most of his weight. Hermione cried a warning as another bolt struck near the two men. She dashed out from underneath the table and ran to aid her husband and Kingsley.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, running after her.

"We have to figure out how to deflect those bolts!" Hermione said, transfiguring one of the benches into a shield. While Hermione attempted to divert the erratic lightning, Ginny took part of Kingsley's weight off Ron and they moved at a quicker pace back towards the table.

A blast hit the shield Hermione was holding, dispersing around it and knocking her back. It slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, wobbling on the front while the shiny concave side faced upwards. Another bolt slashed down, striking the centre of the shield and ricocheted upwards towards the ceiling. More chunks of rock rained down and with a shriek, Hermione covered her head with one arm while sending a Blasting Curse at a particularly large piece of rock. Abandoning the shield, Hermione dived under the table with the others. Kingsley lay panting on his back by the wall and Ron and Ginny were crouched in front of him peering out at Harry.

Hermione knelt next to them and looked back out to Summon the shield. "Of course! A reflective surface might work!"

She transfigured the shield into a large mirror and leaned it against the table. Lightning spiked again, striking the ground by the table. Some of the bolts that struck the mirror were reflected back to their source, while others ricocheted to hit the wall or ceiling. The invisible shield absorbed most of the impact of the refracted bolts, the lightning sparking over the surface.

"It's working!" Hermione exclaimed. "But there has to be a way to aim them better." She warped the mirror until it was concave like the shield had been. "This should help, but we need to be closer. That would increase our chances of fully striking the shield."

Ron conjured straps to the back of the altered mirror and hefted it on his arm. "I'll go. You two look after Kingsley."

Without another word, Ron crept out from the table and inched towards the centre of the room. Draco, catching on to Hermione's plan, summoned the other bench to him, transfiguring it into another concave mirror. Crouching in front of the table, he managed to deflect another barrage of bolts just as Ron did the same. More lightning crackled over the surface of the shield surrounding Harry and wisps of the swirling clouds filtered out.

Just over an hour ago the two men had nearly been at each other's throats and now were actually working together to bring Harry down. Ginny could do nothing but observe from behind the relative safety of the table as more fiery bolts crashed to the floor, while others were again deflected off the mirrors.

A massive bolt slashed through the air towards Draco and Astoria cried out in fear as the force of the blast sent him reeling backward. His mirror smashed into thousands of sparkling pieces that rained down around him, slicing his hands and face. He retreated towards the table sheltering Narcissa and Astoria, adopting Ron's serpentine method of dodging the lightning.

Ron pressed on, swerving his mirror one way and another in an attempt to deflect a sizzling charge to what looked to be the weakest point in the shield. He was finally successful and with an ear-splitting crack, the shield around Harry fell under the reflected bombardment as his body shuddered violently under the impact of the remaining bolts. Falling to the floor, he writhed, fighting an internal battle, the coppery glow of the circle casting ghoulish shadows over his face.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed, rushing to his side, and struggling to pull his head onto her lap to soothe him.

His eyes flashed red and green and his hands clenched into claws as the demon within him tried to wrest back control. The green prevailed and Ginny's heart lifted.

"Ginny," he gasped.

"Harry, you can fight it," she encouraged. "You did it before remember? Just think about how much I love you!"

"No," Harry choked out. "Can't - force it - out this time."

"No, you can," she insisted. "You're stronger than it is."

His head shook, negating her statement once again.

"The fragment is magically bound to him," Hermione whispered, a tear leaking out of the corner of her eye.

Harry nodded. "Break - circle," he panted. "Destroy it."

"No!" Ginny gasped. "Harry, no!"

"Its drawing on the power of the circle," Hermione stated. "If we destroy the circle, we'll have a better chance of attacking it."

"You mean Harry!" Ginny exclaimed. Fear fully gripped her heart and threatened to wrench it from her chest. She brushed his damp fringe away from his head and attempted to still his shaking frame. "There has to be another way."

"Do it now, before it's too late," Harry heaved, his strength failing. "Ginny, I -" Harry started before his face contorted in torment once again. He feebly pushed her away before a roar of immense anger erupted from within him. His body became rigid, shuddering uncontrollably and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

Ron yanked Ginny away from the centre of the circle and Harry's thrashing limbs.

"No!" Ginny wept.

Hermione dashed out from the table and quickly ran around the circle to the apex of the star.

"_Reducto!_" she cried, aiming her wand at the point Harry had stood. The stone floor cracked along the lines of the star, reducing the copper Knut to smithereens. The glowing circle flickered and the light diminished. She pointed her wand at the remaining four points, sending successive Reductor Curses to each one, and fracturing the circle, star, and floor until all that remained was jagged bits of rubble where the pentagram had been.

With an angry roar, Harry sprang from where he had been convulsing and lashed out, tightly gripping Hermione's wrist before she could retreat out of reach. She gave a small cry of pain as the delicate bones in her wrist fractured and her wand clattered to the floor.

"_Harry's been telling my secrets, but I know all of his, too," _Tom hissed, dragging her with him until his back reached the wall, facing the others.

Hermione struggled against him, clawing at the hand gripping her wrist and attempting to kick out with her legs. Tom twisted her wrist up behind her back, snapping the bones and Hermione screamed in pain.

"Let her go, you bloody bastard!" Ron bellowed, shakily pointing his wand at Tom.

"_You wouldn't risk hurting your wife and best mate would you?" _Tom sneered, his leer looking out of place on Harry's face. He pulled Hermione up so she was completely in front of him like a shield and brandished his wand.

"I would!" Draco spat, shooting a Cutting Curse directly towards them.

"No!" Ron shouted. Tom whirled away from the line of fire and the curse caught Hermione in the shoulder. She gave another small cry before sagging against Tom's arm.

"_Confringo!" _Tom yelled, blasting the table the Slytherins were using for cover. Astoria and Narcissa jumped away as the table burst into flames. Draco pulled Astoria behind him while Narcissa turned to douse the fire. "_Expulso!_" The other table exploded, slamming Ron and Ginny to the ground next to a just recovering Kingsley.

Ron rolled along the floor, coming up on one knee and taking aim at the wall behind Tom. It would be a risky shot, and Hermione may be injured further, but it was a risk he had to take. If it worked, there was at least a good chance Hermione would be able to break free.

"_Avis Oppugno!_" A flock of ravens shot from his wand, some crashing into the wall behind Tom, the others flapping their wings wildly about his head, and pecking at his face and arms. With a shriek, Hermione jerked her head about, her thick hair adding to the confusion of the birds. Tom's hold on her loosened and with a mighty kick behind her, Hermione broke free and staggered across the room to stand behind her husband. Ginny hastily mended the slash across Hermione's shoulder and conjured a splint for her wrist.

Banishing the remaining birds, Tom spun on the spot attempting to Apparate out of the room. Harry's body vanished for a brief moment, leaving behind the left leg and arm, before reappearing not far from where it had started. The Splinching was revolting to look at; Harry's leg had been completely severed just below the knee, while his left arm was missing below the elbow. The severed limbs hung in the air for a second where they had been left behind, as if still attached to his body, and then landed on the floor with a sickeningly plop. Harry's mutilated body collapsed as Ginny's shriek of horrified outrage reverberated around the room. The ghastly wounds did nothing to stop Tom from attempting to lurch back to his feet. Somehow, most likely through the will of the spectre, Harry's body stood up again, the left arm dangling uselessly at his side.

"Looks like Harry kept some of his secrets," Kingsley observed, slowly rising to his own feet and aiming his wand steadily at Tom. "After the events at the Ministry all those years ago, new wards were erected to prevent Apparition in or out except from designated points."

Kingsley sent a Stunning Spell towards Tom, hoping to catch him off guard, but Tom managed to avoid the spell by rolling to the side.

Draco cast another Cutting Curse that slashed across Tom's chest as he was attempting to avoid Kingsley spell. Blood seeped through the front of his robes and his face betrayed a small grimace of pain.

"_Crucio!_" Tom bellowed, staggering towards Draco, wand fully extended.

"Never again!" Narcissa screamed, pushing her son aside and taking the full brunt of the curse.

"Mother!" Draco called, his eyes blazing over at Tom's livid face. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Ginny screamed, sending a Blasting Curse to the floor behind Tom that sent rubble shoving him to the ground moments before the sickly green curse would have hit him. Instead, it connected with the Horcrux cabinet, turning Nagini's skeletal remains to dust, and sending the remaining Horcruxes tumbling to the floor. Free from the torture curse, Narcissa rose unsteadily to her feet with Astoria's aid, while Draco cursed Ginny.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, sending a Stunning Spell towards Tom, who again rolled out of the way, shooting aimlessly at Draco as he did so.

"You just tried to kill my husband!" Ginny exclaimed.

"That is not your husband, that's a monster!" Draco spat. "Help us or stay out of the way."

Ginny could not bring herself to fire at Harry even though he had all but ordered them to. Hexes and curses continued to fly about the room. Tom was somehow managing to limp out of the way of most of them, but blood flowed freely from his many wounds. Ginny cursed him for the abuse he was putting Harry's body through, and she did not even want to think what Harry was going through internally, if he were aware at all.

Ginny drifted back away from the awful fight, to stand next to Hermione. The other woman had managed to regain some of her senses, but like Ginny could not bring herself to join the attack. Ron and Kingsley continued to cast spells, hoping to further disable Tom without killing him outright.

Draco, however, was relentless, casting curses at Tom and dodging the ones sent his way. He forgot that anyone else was in the room with him, and hardly noticed when he was finally the only one fighting. If Harry's friends couldn't bring themselves to do what needed to be done, then so be it. Draco would gladly do it. All the years of torment and knowing deep down that Harry was the better wizard, of being tortured by the Dark Lord for all of his failure... Today Draco would not fail. He would do what he had been charged to do and he would be successful.

"_Sectumsempra!_" Draco bellowed, slashing viciously at Tom. Tom fell to his knees, blood flowing freely from deep cuts all over his torso.

"_So brave, Draco,_" he scathingly panted, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"_Crucio!_" Draco cursed, jabbing his wand viciously at the monster, wanting him to feel every ounce of pain he had ever inflicted upon Draco. Tom's screams echoed around the chamber and Harry's body thrashed on the floor. He curled up in a ball trying to protect himself from the torment.

Ginny began screaming unintelligibly and a curse shot past Draco's head. His mother and Astoria stepped into his peripheral vision, wands extended and pointed at the four wizards protesting Draco's actions.

Ignoring the conflict occurring around him, Draco could only focus on sending all the rage he had ever felt towards the Dark Lord into the curse emitting from his wand. He hoped the Dark Lord was being tortured by every vile act he had ever committed. All the anger and hatred flowed through Draco, fuelling the curse. The Dark Lord had never suffered under the Cruciatus during life, he was sure. Draco stabbed his wand at the writhing body at his feet again, and the screaming rose in pitch. The irony that Draco was also, more than likely, inflicting incredible pain upon Harry was not lost on him. For years he had longed for the chance to do just what he was doing. In any fight he had had with Harry, Harry had always won, just as the Dark Lord had.

His mind whirled with conflicting emotions. He hated the Dark Lord for being evil, and Harry for always trying to be a hero and do what he thought was right. Draco was neither of those things. Draco simply was a tool for them to use to accomplish what they needed at any given moment He hoped they were happy; he'd finally succeeded to fulfill something he had been tasked to do.

Harry's body slowly stilled under the onslaught and the screaming died on his lips. All Draco could hear was his own heavy breathing and Ginny sobbing behind him. His arm shook from the force of the spell still emitting from his wand. His mother approached him and gently pushed his arm down.

"It's all right, Draco," she murmured. "You can stop now."

Draco dropped his arm the rest of the way and looked over at his mother. She returned his gaze with understanding in her eyes, but said nothing. He turned and looked at the others standing behind him. Ron, Hermione, Kingsley, and Ginny stared, not at him, but at Harry's still form. None of them looked at him with accusing expressions, because they knew he had done what they could not. He had brought the monster down.

He couldn't bring himself to look at Harry again and turned away from the entire scene to find Astoria standing to the side waiting for him. As did his mother, she said nothing, but recognizing the look on his face, opened her arms to him. Draco hesitated a moment before rushing into them, quietly sobbing.

Harry lay on the floor of the destroyed Horcrux Room, blood oozing from the numerous wounds his body had sustained. Tears running down her cheeks, Ginny knelt next to him. His eyes were opened, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling and laying her hand upon his chest, she couldn't feel his heart beating or the tell-tale rise and fall that would indicate he was breathing.

"This isn't how it was supposed to end," she whispered, as Ron knelt beside her. He placed his arm around her shoulders

She leaned over Harry, the scarab necklace she still wore swinging out between them as she reached to clutch his body to hers. Pausing, she lifted the long chain over her head and held the emerald green pendant in her hand. She remembered what Professor Lockhart had said in the brief moment of sanity he had exhibited when they had seen him just hours ago; it would ward off evil spirits and keep you safe in the afterlife.

Gently lifting Harry's head, she placed the necklace around his neck and tucked it underneath his robes to rest against his heart. That small action sapped any remaining strength she had left within her and Ginny fell prostrate across Harry's body, sobbing wretchedly.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry breathed an immense sigh of relief as the excruciating pain that had been radiating through him for what felt like hours finally ceased. He felt too tired to open his eyes and instead, lay still, feeling a coolness on his skin and silently assessing the damage. He couldn't remember much, the fragment of Tom's soul overpowering him was the last coherent memory he had. The rest was a red haze of pain and torment as he fought Tom's possession while attempting to sabotage the evil wizard's attack upon his friends.

Harry moved his fingers and toes slightly, then his arms and legs and finally his head and neck. Everything seemed to be in perfect working order, so somehow he must have survived.

Nearby someone was crying loud, painful sobs and he wondered why. They had managed to defeat the soul shard, hadn't they? He cracked his eyes open and found himself staring up at the ceiling far above his head. Harry sat up slowly, looking around at the chamber. It was in shambles, the Horcrux cabinet was completely destroyed and the tables and benches sundered to blackened hulks of ash from fiery spells cast. Flashes of memory came to him; this was the fragment's doing, in an attempt to kill his friends and Ginny. Ginny.

Where was Ginny? He brought his focus back to himself and saw her draped over his lap, her red hair fanning out over his legs. The crying was coming from her, but now that he was fully awake, it didn't sound quite right to his ears. The sound was muffled and seemed to be slowing, making her cries much deeper then he knew them to be.

"Ginny," he whispered.

She didn't respond, and continued to lament, slowly rocking back and forth, and seemingly unaware of Ron, gently kneeling next to her and wrapping his arms about her. Ron's shoulders were shaking and Harry realized he was crying, too. Hermione sat opposite them, holding a pale, bloodied hand between her own and the first trickle of fear coiled in Harry's belly. Whose hand was she holding? He looked around the room and saw Draco hovering uncertainly with his mother and Astoria nearby. Kingsley stood apart standing still as a statue, a shell-shocked look on his face. They all appeared to be moving as if in slow-motion, and Harry began to wonder if something was wrong with him.

He reached for Ginny to let her know he was awake, since neither she nor anyone else seemed to have noticed that fact yet. His hand passed through her shoulder as if she were a ghost and Harry's heart clenched in his chest. He tried again with the same results. Looking over at Ron, Harry saw a tear frozen on his friend's cheek. Harry watched the tear for what felt like an eternity, but it only moved a fraction down Ron's cheek. Reaching out, Harry attempted to touch his friend, as well, and again found his hand passing effortlessly through him.

"No," Harry uttered, springing to his feet and stepping around Ron and Ginny. He turned and looked back to see what they were kneeling over and nearly fell back to his knees. Ginny was sprawled over his bloodied body, and it was his hand Hermione was holding. His eyes were opened, staring up at the ceiling and he appeared to be dead.

"But, I don't feel dead," Harry whispered, raising his hands and holding them in front of his face. They looked and felt solid enough for him. He took a hesitant step back towards Ginny. Instead of feeling the solid impact of his foot against the floor he felt himself float in her direction. Looking down, he saw that his feet hovered several inches above the floor.

"I'm not dead!" Harry shouted, but the tableau in front of him remained unchanged, no one moved at all, even though he knew he had just shouted.

Someone laughed behind him and whirling around, Harry saw Tom standing by the door of the chamber, looking at him.

"'I'm not dead!'" he mocked, his brown eyes glinting evilly. "They think you are."

"YOU!" Harry shouted.

Without another thought, Harry launched himself at his foe and the cause of every miserable thing that had ever happened to him. As he reached out to grab Tom a right hook caught him across the jaw and sent him reeling backward. Tom's laughter sounded as black dots popped in front of Harry's eyes. Clearly, he and Tom were on the same physical plane and were able to touch each other.

Shaking the punch off and that new thought clear in Harry's mind, he barrelled towards the other ghost once again, lowering himself like a charging bull right before impact, tackling Tom around the legs. Tom's fists rained punches down on Harry's back and head as Harry's momentum carried them through the wall into the centre chamber of the Department of Mysteries. Shoving Tom forcefully away from him, and causing him to stumble, Harry attempted to pin him to the chamber floor in order to beat the evil wizard senseless.

Tom wasn't going to make it that simple for him, and rolled out of the way causing Harry to crash to the floor. Tom kicked him in the gut and Harry was surprised how much it hurt considering he really didn't have a corporeal body at the moment. He doubled over and Tom kicked at him again, this time aiming for Harry's head. Harry managed to roll away before it could connect and it glanced off his shoulder instead.

Pain lanced down his arm as Harry struggled to his knees. He saw Tom's foot swinging towards him yet again, and Harry instinctively risked grabbing the other wizard's thigh with both hands. His gamble was a success and he was able to unbalance Tom, who fell to his back.

Harry took a few steps backward, taking a moment to clear his head from the blow he'd just received and to catch his breath. Tom wasn't planning on allowing him a reprieve and sprang from where he had fallen, heading straight for where Harry was standing, arm pulled back to deliver another punch. Harry grabbed the arm aiming for him and used Tom's momentum to head-butt him in the nose. The satisfying sound of bones cracking and Tom's cry of pain were music to Harry's ears. Tom spun past him, wrenching his arm from Harry's grasp and disappeared through the wall of the chamber. Harry immediately followed and saw Tom dodging past spinning planets. Harry flew after him, forgetting for a moment that he was non-corporeal and diving to slide underneath Jupiter as it loomed in front of him.

Tom glanced over his shoulder and seeing Harry gaining, lurched to the left, flying through Saturn and its rings. Tom continued straight for another wall, passing through it and Harry once again did the same. He was just entering the next room, when he stumbled over something directly in his path. He landed on his hands and knees, narrowly avoiding toppling down a set of steps that led to a mysteriously glowing golden ball. Backing away from the edge, Harry looked over his shoulder and saw it was Tom he had tripped over. The other wizard was panting and struggling to rise to his feet.

Harry realized he felt some of his strength returning and regained his footing quickly. Reaching over, he grabbed Tom by the front of his robes and hefted him up, ignoring the pain in his gut where Tom had kicked him. He threw an upper-cut at Tom, who jerked his head to the side. The punch glanced off Tom's neck instead, causing him to give another strangled cry of pain. The evil ghost retaliated by grabbing Harry's biceps for leverage and kneeing him in the gut where he had hit Harry earlier. Harry yelped as pain radiated from the tender spot. Tom lashed out again, causing Harry to lose his balance, and they both toppled down the stone stairs.

Harry rolled away, pulling himself up by the bottom ledge. Tom gasped for breath next to him and began dragging himself over the floor, away from the golden ball. Harry inched along the ledge towards Tom, gathering up the last ounce of energy left within him. He kicked the evil wizard in the back, sending him rolling over the floor back towards the base of the ball. Diving after him, Harry slipped his hands around Tom's neck and began to squeeze. Silvery blood ran freely from Tom's broken nose and he desperately clawed at Harry's hands, before stilling.

"Are you going to choke me to death?" Tom wheezed and began laughing at Harry's vain attempt to strangle him.

Harry bellowed inarticulately in his rage and threw Tom across the room. The wizard's body passed through the odd golden-lighted ball in the centre of the room and Tom's laughter turned to screams of pain.

Floating slowly towards his opponent, Harry made sure to avoid the golden ball, even though he felt his strength returning as he neared the object. He feared it was merely a trick to entice him to enter its golden depths and instead he skirted around it until he found not Tom, but the fragment of his soul feebly trying to crawl away.

Feeling no pity for the monster, Harry reached down and yanked the creature up with the intent of hurling it back into the golden ball. Whatever the ball was, it was adversely affecting the soul shard and Harry thought if he could toss the fragment inside, perhaps the fight would be over and the fragment would be destroyed once and for all. Otherwise, Harry feared having to spend an eternity fighting the monster.

However, the creature must have sensed his intentions and clamped its mouth down on Harry's arm, causing him to howl in pain. Attempting to pry it off only made it dig its fangs in deeper and silvery blood dripped down Harry's arms as he fought the monster.

He whirled around, hoping to shake it off, as it clawed its way up his arm. The golden globe pulsed enticingly, a lulling vibration like an oncoming train filling the room. Harry recalled his initial dream of the soul shard and how it had ended with him throwing himself and the fragment in front of the train. The ball seemed to be promising him an actual end to this torment and with determination, Harry decided to risk it all and strode towards the globe.

"_No!"_ the fragment begged, pushing against Harry and struggling to escape. Harry grabbed it firmly by the neck and plunged into the ball. A golden light enveloped him and he released the fragment. It fell to Harry's feet and cried pitifully. Its red skin blackened and its arms and legs shrivelled as it curled up into itself.

To Harry the golden light was like basking in the sun, but it seemed to be burning the soul shard alive. Warmth seeped through him and Harry never wanted to leave this wonderful place. Images began to swirl about him: his mother and father holding him when he was a baby, Ron and Hermione hugging him while they were at school, Mrs Weasley attending the Triwizard tournament to show him her love and support, kissing Ginny for the first time, and seeing her walk down the aisle towards him on their wedding day. How beautiful she had been, her hair flying free and unfettered in the warm summer's breeze and the simple white dress robes billowing about her arms and legs. Her brown eyes shining with happiness and love, reflecting the same in his own eyes.

Harry realized he must be standing in pure love. This was the locked room at the Department of Mysteries Albus had told him about so long ago, and why he felt so much at home here while the ghost of the soul shard only suffered. While Harry had been able to endure the hardships life had thrown at him with the aid of his friends, and had embraced the happy moments with gusto, Tom had shunned such emotions, growing cold and unfeeling over time.

Another cry of extreme torment reached his ears, and looking down Harry saw that the fragment had become a blackened hulk. He took a step away from the thing as its surface began to crack and bright golden light burst out of the creature.

Shielding his eyes, Harry watched as the cracks grew. With a final burst of light, the soul shard exploded into thousands of tiny fragments that dispersed through the air in the globe. The blast knocked Harry off his feet and sent him crashing through the golden abll and back outside in the room by the stone steps. The warmth left immediately him, and shaking his head, the euphoria he had been feeling vanished. He took a step towards the globe, but paused, watching the ash of the soul fragment still spinning around inside. One by one they winked out of existence until the ball was pure once more.

It was over. Harry knew with certainty that the fragment of Tom's soul would not be returning and had joined the rest of the soul fragments, wherever that may be. Ginny and the others would be safe, but Harry didn't know what he was supposed to do now.

He had no doubt that the globe would welcome him back within its borders, but did he want to spend eternity reliving moments from his life? If he was dead, shouldn't he pass on to the other side now that the fight was over? He glanced around the room feeling lost and confused. Perhaps he should find his way back to the Horcrux Room and see Ginny one last time.

With one last look at the golden ball, Harry trudged dejectedly up the stairs towards the door. He walked effortlessly through it and stood in the reception chamber of the Department of Mysteries. All thirteen doors looked alike and he could no longer remember which one had been the one that would lead to the Horcrux Room. He turned slowly in a circle, feeling wearier by the second. With his strength waning, he finally chose a door and walked through it.

Voices accosted Harry's ears immediately and sparing a glance about the chamber, he realized he was in the room with the Veil. He could see shadows passing behind the stone archway below him. Harry had lost Sirius to the portal. Several years after the events at the Ministry and the defeat of Voldemort, Harry had thought to inquire as to the purpose of the structure. Kingsley had informed him that the Veil had been created as a foolproof means of ensuring a witch or wizard who had been convicted of unconscionable felonies would not be able to return to the mortal world in any shape or form to inflict more harm. However, as times changed and the threat of Dark Magic and other humane means of dealing with prisoners were created, the use of the Veil had fallen out of practice and it was brought here for safekeeping.

Harry crept down the stone steps, drawn by the mystique of the Veil. The voices from the archway softened and soon were whispering words of welcome to Harry, assuring him his fate would be a happy one, if only he would join them.

Harry gazed uncertainly at the Veil. Sirius had passed through it and had come out on the other side unscathed to spend eternity with Harry's parents. He looked down at his mauled arm, covered in silvery blood that was dripping on the stone next to him. It hurt, a lot, and so did his abdomen and head where he had been kicked. He'd never been under the impression that ghosts could feel pain, and the worse pain of all was the ache in his chest. The thought of leaving Ginny behind was torturous. Ginny. Before entering the Veil Room, he had decided to return to the Horcrux Room, not walk through the Veil. It was trying to trick him into entering. He couldn't do that. At least, not before telling Ginny he loved her one last time. He had to go back and at least tell her, whether she could hear him or not.

Harry had barely finished the thought when a tug within his naval yanked him backwards. His ghostly form was out of control and tumbling through the air and walls of the Department of Ministries, back through the golden chamber, the planets, the centre chamber and once again into the Horcrux Room. His body still lay on the floor, staring unseeing up at the ceiling and Ginny was still kneeling over him, sobbing uncontrollably while something glowed brightly green underneath her steaming red hair.

He was drawn to the glow like a moth to a flame and with a gasp, entered the green light.


	20. Ch 19 - The Vanishing Twin

**Author's Notes: **Thanks to Arnel and seekers_destiny for betaing.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry's chest heaved beneath Ginny, startling her from her weeping. Lifting her head, she saw the scarab necklace she had placed around his neck glowing a pale green. His eyes were now closed, as if in sleep, and placing two fingers against the side of his neck, she could feel his pulse faintly beating. Her hand drifted down to lift the necklace; it was warm in her palm, emitting an internal heat as it pulsed with each beat of Harry's heart. As she held it in her hand, the glow faded until it looked like a normal emerald once again, and Harry took another ragged breath.

"Harry's still alive," she exclaimed softly, looking around at the others, before turning back and attempting to perform a few Healing Charms to stem the flow of blood still coming from his wounds. "We need to take him to St Mungo's before he bleeds to death."

Ron, still kneeling next to her, looked at the necklace warily. "Why was your necklace glowing?"

"I don't know, Ron," Ginny huffed in exasperation. "We can figure that out later."

"What if he is still possessed?" Draco asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Maybe this is merely a ploy of the Dark Lord's to have us move the body."

Ginny placed her hands protectively upon Harry's chest before whipping her head around to glare up at Draco. "Does he look like he is in any condition to escape? You nearly killed him with the Cruciatus!"

"He told us to kill him!" Draco snapped. "If it hadn't been for me you lot would be dead by now."

"We would have taken care of it," Ron defended.

"I saw how well you were doing," Draco snapped. "Those two," he pointed accusingly at Ginny and Hermione, "didn't lift a finger to help! Even after he broke your wrist, Granger!"

"I was not going to kill my best friend!" Hermione retorted. "He didn't hurt me, Tom did!"

"Same difference," Draco scathingly said. "I say we bind him before we move him anywhere." He looked down dispassionately upon Ginny and Harry. "Step away, Potterette, unless you want to be Petrified and tied up along with your husband."

"No!" Ginny refused. "Petrifying him could kill him! He's barely breathing as it is and he's still losing a lot of blood. Hermione?"

Hermione looked uncertainly between Draco and Ginny. "We don't know that he isn't still possessed, Ginny."

Kingsley quietly knelt down next to Ginny and gently pulled back one of Harry's eyelids with one finger while his other hand held his wand steady above Harry's face. "_Lumos_," he whispered. Harry's iris did not respond, but remained dilated with a sliver of emerald surrounding it. "I'm not a Healer, but from what I remember from battle healing, that is a sign that the patient is in a coma. I don't think we need to worry that Harry or Tom is going to attack us anytime soon."

"Maybe we could bind his arms in front to minimize further damage and bind his legs, just in case," Ron tentatively suggested.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, horrified.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, Ginny, but if we are going to take him into a public place, I'd be negligent in my duty as an Auror not to take the proper precautions," Ron said apologetically. "As much as I hate to admit it, Malfoy is right. We don't know if this is another trap."

Kingsley nodded his silent affirmation and placed a hand lightly upon Ginny's shoulder. She bit back bitter tears as she gently lifted Harry's arms to rest on his abdomen, wincing at the sight of the empty left sleeve where his lower arm should have been. Ron waved his wand over his best mate, and strong ropes wrapped around his torso, binding his arms securely to his body, and similar bonds wrapped around his legs ensuring, if he did awake, he would not be able to escape. Harry's hand still gripped his wand tightly, and Ginny tugged it free with some effort and hid it away within a pocket of her jumper.

Conjuring a stretcher, Kingsley leviated Harry's bound body onto it and then went to retrieve his severed limbs. Removing his Ministerial robes, Kingsley wrapped them in the robes before laying them next to Harry on the stretcher and turned to address the others.

"Once we return to the Atrium, I will Apparate with Harry to the private entrance of St Mungo's. I'll wait there for you, Ginny and Hermione. Ron, I would like you to escort Draco back to his cell and see Narcissa and Astoria home."

Ron looked about to protest, but immediately clamped his mouth shut and curtly nodded. Even though Kingsley was his friend, first and foremost he was the Minister of Magic and had complete authority.

"I want to be as discreet as possible for all our sakes," Kingsley continued. "As Harry was most afraid, it would not do for word of this to get out." He looked about the ruined Horcrux Room. "I believe one of my first orders of business this morning will be to demand the immediate dismantling of this room and the complete destruction of everything within it. Hermione, once your wrist is tended to, I am leaving that task in your hands."

Hermione nodded mutely. Ginny remained by Harry's side, eyes riveted to the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The Slytherins gave them a wide berth as they moved towards the door, which now opened easily. Ron followed closely after them, and Hermione took Ginny's arm and gently steered her away from Harry and out the door. Kingsley brought up the rear, guiding Harry's still body.

They parted ways in the deserted Atrium of the Ministry. It was still early morning and most of the employees would not be arriving for several more hours. Ron escorted Draco to his cell with Astoria and Narcissa accompanying him. They disappeared in the lift that would take them up to the holding cells in the Auror Office, while Ginny and Hermione followed Kingsley to the Apparation point.

"Please be careful with him, Kingsley," Ginny called as the older wizard stepped on the Apparition point and drew Harry's stretcher towards him.

"I will," Kingsley promised. "I'll see you there."

Ginny watched as Kingsley and Harry disappeared. She looked over at Hermione who was looking pale and holding her wrist close to her chest. Gently taking her by her good arm, Ginny led her to the just-cleared point. Hermione smiled gratefully, and they silently spun on the spot, reappearing in a darkened alley behind St Mungo's. It contained a private, back entrance only Aurors and a select, privileged few knew about, to avoid the eyes and ears of the press.

Kingsley stood in an opened doorway already conversing quietly with a Healer. Behind him, another Healer was pushing Harry's stretcher through a door marked 'No Admittance'. Kingsley excused himself from the Healer to greet Ginny and Hermione.

"That was Healer Jacobson I was just speaking to. I told him you encountered a poor soul under the influence of the hallucinatory potions Harry had been investigating recently," Kingsley confided in Ginny. "The wizard tracked Harry to his house and attacked you while you were entertaining Ron and Hermione. It's a solid cover story and will not be questioned. I will have to tell him the truth in regard to Harry's wounds, so he can be treated properly, Ginny, but rest assured, the man works closely with me and will not disclose any of this to the press."

Kingsley gently took Ginny by the arm and guided her towards the Healer. "Healer Jacobson, this is Ginny Potter, Auror Potter's wife. What's your assessment of his condition?" Kingsley asked.

"I haven't seen wounds like that since the war, Minister Shacklebolt," he said without preamble. "We are taking Auror Potter upstairs to be treated immediately."

"I need to go with him," Ginny said, looking anxiously past the Healer towards the door Harry had disappeared behind.

Healer Jacobson shook his head and held out a restraining hand. "I'm sorry, Mrs Potter, but you cannot. No one but Healers are allowed in the operating theatre. Your husband has life-threatening wounds that need immediate attention if we are to have any hope of his recovering fully. We will let you know when you can join him in the recovery room. In the meantime, please wait here. I will return shortly after I see that Auror Potter's treatment is underway, Minister, and you can debrief me."

He turned to leave, but Ginny's hand shot out and stopped him before he could depart.

"Please," she said, realizing, if they were taking Harry to an operating theatre, then they would have to disrobe him and would remove the necklace. "Please, whatever you do, don't take the scarab necklace off him."

"I'll be sure to make a note of that in his file and inform the other Healers," Healer Jacobson obliged.

He turned without another word and exited through the door Harry had just been pushed through. Kingsley guided Ginny over to a chair and she sank numbly in it. After he had seen that Ginny was situated, Kingsley led a shocked Hermione towards the Welcome Witch. After checking her in, she was received by a Healer and taken through a door leading to emergency exam cubicles.

"I should inform my parents," Ginny said dully, staring at the wall before her when Kingsley returned to her side.

"I'll take care of that," Kingsley assured her, rising from the seat he had taken next to her. "I'll be back shortly."

As Kingsley disappeared down the hall to find a Floo Network, Ron burst through the doors, looking wildly about. Upon spying Ginny, he rushed over to her.

"Where's Harry? Where's Hermione?" he tensely asked.

"They took Harry to the operating theatre and Hermione to mend her wrist," Ginny answered.

"I'm going to check on Hermione and then I'll be right back," Ron explained before rushing off to the Welcome Witch to inquire about Hermione. A few moments later, Hermione returned, still looking a bit peaked despite the fact that her wrist had been mended, and Ron pulled her into a tight embrace. After releasing her, he kept his arm firmly around her shoulders and guided her over to where Ginny was sitting.

Ginny's brows furrowed in concern for her friend. "You should be resting, Hermione," she admonished.

"I can't," Hermione replied, her eyes filling with tears. "All of this is my fault. If only I had thought things through."

"How could you have known, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "None of us thought of Harry as a possible place of death for the bloody thing!"

Hermione nodded mutely and Ron guided her to a chair next to Ginny. "Have you heard anything about Harry's condition?" she asked as she settled into her seat.

"No," Ginny replied, her face hardening as she glanced over at her brother. "Is Draco locked up?"

"Yeah," Ron acknowledged. "His mum and Astoria insisted on staying outside his cell. I suppose they were afraid I was going to hex him."

"I wish you had," Ginny stated with venom. "He nearly killed Harry."

"That's the problem though, isn't it, Ginny?" Ron remarked. "Was it Malfoy who nearly killed Harry or the ghost? I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around everything that just happened."

Ginny jerked her head in dissent. "I'm trying not to think about it at all. All I can think about is the fact that I nearly lost Harry again tonight. It's not fair! It's simply not fair!"

Tears fell unbidden from her eyes and she began sobbing uncontrollably, "First the baby, and now Harry. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Ron knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his own while Hermione rubbed her back silently.

"It's going to be all right, Ginny," Ron whispered with as much reassurance as he could muster. "It has to be."

Ginny nodded mutely and the three of them sat there, lost in their own tumultuous thoughts, until Kingsley returned with an extremely worried looking Arthur and Molly.

"Ginny!" Molly exclaimed, kneeling next to Ron and pulling her daughter in a tight embrace. Ginny laid her head on her mother's shoulder and allowed her to soothe her as she had done countless times when Ginny had been a little girl.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, as Ron rose to stand next to him.

"It's a long story," Ron replied.

He glanced over at Ginny who nodded her silent affirmation that he could reveal the story to their parents. Ron proceeded to enlighten the elder Weasleys what had been happening to Harry and Ginny over the past few weeks and the disastrous results of the Binding Ritual. They were rightfully horrified to hear the news and even angrier that Harry and Ginny had kept it from them. Rising to her own defence, Ginny exclaimed that even she and Harry hadn't understood what was afflicting them until the previous day and had hoped to be rid of the thing before having to alarm her parents unnecessarily. As it was, until Harry awoke, they wouldn't know if Draco's attack had been successful or not.

Healer Jacobson returned not long after, as the sun was rising, to inform them all that Harry was still in the operating theatre. Of all his injuries, the Splinching of his arm and leg had been the severest and would take several days of high dosages of Dittany, a mending potion, and a Muscle Growth potion to repair the damage done.

"When can I see him?" Ginny asked.

"They are finishing up healing the remaining damage caused by the Cutting Curses and after that he will be moved to a Recovery Room," Healer Jacobson explained. "You may join him then."

Ginny nodded and slumped back into her seat to be comforted further by Hermione and her mother. Kingsley made his apologies that he would not be able to stay longer, but he needed to debrief the Head Healer and then return to his office to see about the dismantling of the Horcrux Room. He asked Hermione to join him later in the morning and bid them all a reluctant good-bye.

The remaining five wizards sat in an uneasy silence, until over an hour later when another Healer finally arrived to explain that Harry was out of immediate danger and had been transferred to a Recovery Room. Ginny stood abruptly, as did the rest of her family, and the Healer led them to the lift, taking it to the Spell Damage floor.

Stopping by a door that stood ajar, the Healer pushed it open and stepped aside, allowing his small entourage to enter first. Ginny gasped in dismay and relief when she saw Harry laying upon a bed swathed in bandages that covered his entire torso and left arm and leg. Dark bruises encircled his eyes and his skin was deathly pale. Rushing to his side, Ginny sank down on the bed next to him, gripping his right hand tightly in her own.

"Harry," she murmured. "I'm here, Harry. Please come back to me. Please."

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

A day later, Harry had still not awoken and Ginny sat dully by his side. The Healers had confirmed Kingsley's assessment that Harry was in a coma, and they could not determine when or if he would ever awaken. They had managed to reattach Harry's limbs and repair the damage to his left arm and leg, which, aside from being severed in two, had been horribly mangled, with most of his muscle and tendons shredded. It could have been worse, and his arm and leg could have been lost completely. As it was, the Healers had commented that it was actually a blessing that Harry was unconscious, since the potions needed to repair such extensive injuries caused immense pain.

They had removed the bandages from around his arm, leg and chest, and jagged red scars ran the length of his arm and leg. Healer Jacobson had said the scar tissue would fade with time, but would never completely disappear. Harry's exposed chest was criss-crossed with equally angry red slashes from the curses he had sustained. Ginny had refused to allow the Healers to remove the scarab necklace from around Harry's neck and it rested upon the old scar created by the removal of the Horcrux locket. The green scarab rose slowly with every breath Harry took, and was the only sign Ginny had that he was still alive. His hand was still and cool in hers and she longed to feel his fingers curling around her own.

"You're still the most handsome wizard in the world to me," Ginny whispered as she lightly traced the angry red lines on his chest. "Please wake up."

Ginny despised Tom with every fibre of her being, more so now than ever. He had used them all to try to achieve what he wanted, and had very nearly succeeded. The evil bastard had been right to assume that Ginny, Ron, and Hermione would have immense difficulty in finishing off Harry. Ginny could only assume he had thought Draco, Narcissa, and Astoria would immediately come to his aid and destroy the three Gryffindors. He hadn't taken into account that the three Slytherins may have changed or even held a bit of a grudge against him. Ginny was grateful for that, even if it had nearly cost Harry his life.

She'd seen in the _Evening Prophet _that Draco had been released at his hearing yesterday morning. Despite having been freed, the accompanying picture showed a dejected-looking Draco, as opposed to the gloating sneer she would have expected to see on his face. She wasn't sure how she felt about Draco's return to the Wizarding world, but she couldn't seem to summon the anger she thought she should be feeling over the injustice that Draco was free and healthy and Harry was in a coma he may never wake from.

Harry seemed to have overcome any animosity he had felt towards Draco, and had trusted him enough to include him in the Binding Ritual. However, Harry hadn't known what a disastrous outcome the ritual would have or that he would have to ask them to kill him. Draco was the only one willing to comply with that command, but Ginny absolutely could not have allowed him to use the Killing Curse on Harry. That would have been final, and she knew even Harry would not have been able to return from that again. It made her sick to think she had, instead, stood by and allowed Draco to torture Harry into oblivion, but what other choice had they had?

As it was, until Harry awoke, they wouldn't know for certain if he had survived the Torture Curse and if Tom was truly gone. Even though he was here in body, his mind may have been reduced to mush, like the Longbottoms. The thought of Harry having to spend the rest of his life on the closed ward was nearly more than Ginny could bear.

She laid her head down on the bed beside him and wept. She must have cried herself to sleep because the next thing she knew her mother was gently shaking her. Ginny raised her head wearily from her arms and looked over her shoulder blearily at her mother.

"Ginny, dear," her mother whispered. "Come on, my girl. Come home with me and rest properly for a few hours."

Ginny shook her head. "No, Harry needs me."

"You can't do him any good if you can't function, love," her mother soothed. "Trust me, I know how you feel. Hermione is here and she will sit with him until you return in the morning. She will let you know immediately if there is any change."

"No!" Ginny said stubbornly.

"Ginny," her mother said in a sterner tone. "You have been here for well over twenty-four hours. Harry would not like knowing you are not taking care of yourself!"

Ginny scowled up at her mother, clutching Harry's clammy hand in her own. It was low telling her he would not be happy. She already knew that, but she also knew that if their roles were reversed, Harry would be sitting stubbornly by her side, as well. No doubt Ron or George would have had to come and pry him away, possibly Stun him if he was being particularly belligerent about it.

Hermione hovered behind Molly, looking pale and worried. She tried to smile encouragingly over at Ginny, but her lower lip trembled and she gave up the pretence. Ginny supposed her friend felt immensely guilty. She had been the one to suggest the Binding Ritual. While it wasn't her fault, Ginny assumed Hermione would always harbour the guilt of binding a violent spirit to her best friend.

"_I'm so sorry,_" Hermione mouthed, her eyes filling with tears.

Ginny placed Harry's hand gently upon the bed and rose stiffly. Her mother wrapped her arm about her shoulders, but Ginny shrugged it off and walked over to Hermione, pulling her into a tight hug.

"It's not your fault," Ginny whispered. "Take good care of him for me?"

"I will," Hermione uttered, giving Ginny another squeeze before taking her place by Harry's side. Ginny stepped over and kissed him softly on the forehead before allowing her mother to finally guide her away.

Her mother took her home to The Burrow, settling Ginny in her room and insisting she drink a cup of tea before bed. After the first sip, Ginny knew her mother had laced it with a heavy dose of a Sleeping Draught, as she could feel her limbs instantly relaxing and her eyelids drooping. She shoved the remainder of the tea away, sloshing it over her hands as she glared angrily up at her mother.

"It's for your own good, dear," her mother replied, calmly taking the cup from her daughter and setting it on the bedside table. Ginny attempted to voice an expletive or two at her mother, but unintelligible words slurred out instead and her head dropped back against the soft feather pillows as sleep took her.

As it was she rested fitfully and awoke several hours later at dawn, feeling more exhausted than she had when she arrived at The Burrow. Her stomach churned unpleasantly and feeling as if she was going to vomit, Ginny lurched out of bed and knelt by the rubbish bin just in time to expel the meagre contents in her stomach. She sat on the floor a few moments longer, catching her breath before Vanishing the mess in the rubbish bin. She still felt slightly nauseous, and crawled back into bed, one hand absently rubbing her belly and the other drifting over towards the empty side Harry would have occupied. How could she possibly go on without him? She stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows creep across it as the sun rose.

After the nausea had subsided somewhat, Ginny sat up slowly. With the room lightened by the early morning sun, she saw that her mother had thoughtfully laid out fresh clothes at the foot of the bed for her to wear. Scooting down to the end of the bed, she pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a cream cable-knit jumper. She retrieved her trainers from underneath the bed where her mother had set them the night before and slipped them on. Rising, Ginny quietly opened her door and crept down the stairs, only to find her mother already awake and sitting at the kitchen table with a plate of freshly baked scones, butter, and jam, and a cold glass of pumpkin juice waiting for her.

"I'll not allow you to forgo taking care of yourself, Ginny," her mother said without preamble or apology.

"I know, Mum," Ginny acquiesced, sitting across from her mother and half-heartedly pulling the plate of scones towards her. She took one and generously slathered it with butter and strawberry jam. She took a bite and chewed, knowing it probably tasted delicious despite the fact that it felt and tasted like thick cardboard in her mouth. She swallowed and set the rest aside, washing the one bite down with a healthy swig of the pumpkin juice.

Grimacing, Ginny looked over at her mother. "I can't."

Her mother nodded. "Take it for later, then." She wrapped the remaining scones in a cloth and placed it, along with the jam and butter in a basket. Shrinking the basket, she handed it to Ginny, who slipped it into a pocket in her jumper.

"I have to go, Mum," Ginny quietly said.

"I know, dear," her mother admitted. "Your father and I will stop by later."

Ginny nodded as she stood, and her mother quickly came around the table to pull her into a tight hug. After releasing her, Ginny bid her good-bye and hurried out the door and down the garden path. Stepping into the lane, Ginny immediately twisted on the spot.

Arriving at St Mungo's, she took a deep breath before walking through the entrance doors into the reception area. She walked briskly towards the lifts and was waiting impatiently when Healer Banner stepped out of the Welcome Witch's office. She spied Ginny immediately and walked over.

"Good morning, Ginny," Healer Banner greeted. "I heard about Harry. I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," Ginny replied. "I'm on my way back up to check on him."

Healer Banner nodded. "As you should, but before you do, I'd like you to stop by my office for a check-up yourself."

Ginny shook her head negatively. "Not right now, Healer Banner. I've been away all night."

"A few more minutes won't matter, Ginny, and I need to make sure you are recovering," Healer Banner insisted, and her face and voice brooked no argument. Despite the fact that she hated being away from Harry a moment longer, Ginny reluctantly agreed and followed the Healer to her office.

Waving Ginny towards an examination table, Healer Banner retrieved her file from her office. Opening the file, she looked over the parchment within before waving her wand over Ginny. With her brow furrowing, her healer referred to the file once more before running a few more tests.

Ginny sat anxiously on the table, wishing her Healer would hurry up. She hadn't given the miscarriage much thought since everything that had happened to Harry and she was actually feeling fine physically. The cramping pain in her abdomen had subsided considerably and she only felt a twinge every now and again of a tightening that she assumed was her body returning to normal.

At the moment, all she really cared about was returning to Harry's side.

"Well?" Ginny asked curtly when Healer Banner had waved her wand across Ginny for the fourth time without saying anything.

"Your hCG levels are higher than they were two days ago, Ginny," Healer Banner replied, looking over Ginny's chart.

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked.

"I need to examine you further," Healer Banner explained. "Like I said before, we may have to remove embryonic tissue still implanted in your uterine lining."

Ginny grimaced. That didn't sound appealing and it also sounded like it would keep her away from Harry longer.

"How long will that take?" Ginny asked.

"I know you are anxious to return to Harry, Ginny," Healer Banner said kindly. "But we need to be thorough for your own health. You won't do him any good if you become sick and infirmed yourself. Just lie back and try to relax."

Ginny did as she was asked and lay back on the examination table, but the tension in her shoulders and neck would not abate. If anything, this whole visit was simply adding to the stress she was feeling. She closed her eyes and tried to take deep, even, cleansing breaths. However, that only reminded her of the Binding Ritual and her eyes sprang open, trying to erase the awful images of Harry succumbing to the force of Tom's spirit. Tears sprang to her eyes. She'd lost her baby, and her husband's life still hung in the balance. Surely, this nightmare would come to an end soon and she and Harry could resume the amazing life they had built.

Healer Banner waved her wand over Ginny's abdomen and a flickering image appeared in the air between them. It was grainy and unfocused, but Ginny thought she saw something moving.

"What is that?" Ginny asked, rising up on her elbows to try to gain a better look at the picture floating in front of her. Whatever the picture was, something in the very middle was definitely pulsing steadily.

"Something I was not expecting to find," Healer Banner murmured, enlarging the picture. Ginny couldn't take her eyes off the tiny white object quivering in front of her.

"This, Ginny," Healer Banner expanded in further detail, "is your baby."

Ginny's head snapped up to look at her Healer. "My what?"

Healer Banner smiled softly. "I believe you may have been carrying twins. You miscarried the weaker of the two, but this one is a fighter."

"I'm still pregnant?" Ginny asked, unbelievingly.

"Yes, it would seem so," Healer Banner confirmed. "You suffered from something we call The Vanishing Twin Syndrome, and it's not uncommon, though usually goes undetected. Many times the weaker embryo is either miscarried, as in your case, or more often absorbed by the stronger embryo."

"I'm still pregnant," Ginny whispered. "We're having a baby."

Her heart pounded in her chest and she flicked her eyes back over to the picture in front of her. The foetus' heart was still pumping strongly, seemingly trying to match her own. Ginny reached her hand out towards the little being that was, at the moment, no bigger than the tip of her pinky finger.

"I'd say in light of everything, this is just the kind of news you needed," Healer Banner quietly commented.

Ginny mutely nodded before speaking. "Can you make a photo I can take with me? I'd like to show Harry."

"Of course." Healer Banner went to a cabinet in the corner of the room and opening a drawer, brought a small piece of thick parchment the size of a postcard. Bringing it back to the examination table, she set it on the table next to Ginny before flicking her wand at the hovering image. It shrank down to the size of the parchment and guiding it with her wand, Healer Banner imprinted the image upon the parchment. She picked it up and handed it to Ginny.

Gazing at the picture, Ginny could still see the embryo's heart pumping and thought that the little paddles that she thought might be where the arms would eventually be fluttered slightly.

"This is amazing!" she exhaled.

"Congratulations, Ginny," Healer Banner expressed, a smile on her face.

"Thanks," Ginny whispered, tears of happiness springing to her eyes. "Thanks so much."


	21. Ch 20 - Return From the Black Abyss

**Author's notes: **Thanks to Arnel and seekers_destiny for betaing! Enjoy!

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

When Ginny returned to the fourth floor and the Spell Damage Ward, she found both Hermione and Ron sitting by Harry's bed. Hermione was curled up in a chair, with the tattered ritual book sitting open and forgotten upon her lap. Ron sat in a chair next to her, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands hanging between his legs. They were whispering quietly to each other, and at one point Ron reached over to wipe an errant tear from Hermione's cheek.

Ginny sighed, most of the bubbling happiness she had been feeling abating when she saw that Harry looked the same as he had when she had left him the night before. It didn't look as if he had moved at all. Clutching the picture of the new life growing inside of her, Ginny realized a part of her had thought that since she had just received this good piece of news, she would find Harry awake, sitting up, and waiting for her to tell him.

She walked down the aisle and sat at the foot of the bed before either Ron or Hermione noticed her presence. They both looked up and smiled wanly at her.

"Good morning, Ginny," Ron said, the dark circles under his eyes telling her he had spent the night next to Harry holding vigil with his wife.

"Morning, you two," Ginny replied quietly, subtly shoving the picture in her jumper pocket. She wasn't ready to share her news with anyone other than Harry at the moment. Even if he wouldn't be cognizant of the fact that he was going to be a father, he deserved to be told first, regardless.

"Did you get any sleep?" Hermione asked behind a yawn, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Mum slipped me a Sleeping Draught," Ginny complained. "I was too out of it to notice until I had taken a big swig."

"You needed it," Ron lectured.

"You're one to talk," Ginny shot back. "I can tell neither of you slept a wink last night. You could have taken it in shifts."

"I wouldn't have been able to sleep," Ron admitted. "Every time I close my eyes I keep seeing Malfoy torturing Harry and I was paralyzed to do anything to stop him."

"We couldn't," Hermione responded. "Draco was right. None of us could have brought ourselves to actually kill Harry, no matter what."

"I suppose if the Torture Curse hadn't worked, he would have tried to kill him outright," Ron mused.

"Did it work?" Ginny whispered, looking over at her still unconscious husband. "He's been comatose for nearly two days now."

"He's been out longer before," Ron reminded Ginny.

"When?" Ginny asked her brother.

"First year?" he asked uncertainly, looking over at his wife for affirmation.

Hermione nodded. "He was out about three days then."

"See?" Ron said encouragingly.

"That doesn't answer my question," Ginny stated. "Is the ghost gone?"

Hermione gazed thoughtfully at Harry. "I've been thinking about that, Ginny, and referencing the Binding Ritual book." She picked up the book in her lap. "You can bind a ghost to its place of death, but you can't control it. It can still do whatever it wants within the contained space. I think, if the ghost was still in Harry, we would know by now. It's had ample opportunity to take advantage of Harry's state and do what it likes."

Ginny digested this information, knowing what her friend was saying made a lot of sense. She doubted Tom would have sat idly by the past two days doing nothing, not if he had a body he could control and use as he desired. His actions in the Horcrux chamber were evidence of that.

"Did you destroy the Horcrux Chamber, Hermione?" Ginny asked, suddenly remembering Kingsley order to her friend to do just that.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I actually enlisted the aid of Narcissa."

"You what?" Ron asked, horrified.

"Oh, honestly, Ron," Hermione huffed. "She was extremely helpful during the ritual and after. Plus, I thought if anyone may know how to cast and control Fiendfyre, it would be her. I figured it would be the only way to reduce the remaining Horcruxes to ashes. It worked quite well on the few remains of Nagini's skeleton and the diary, but it merely melted the ring, locket, cup and diadem. I borrowed Gryffindor's sword from Professor McGonagall and smashed those to bits. It was quite therapeutic at the time." She glanced over at Harry. "I'm worried about him," she whispered.

"We were talking just a few days ago about what we each would do if one of us died," Ginny trailed off, staring at Harry.

"Well, that's a morbid conversation," Ron commented.

Ginny sniffed a small laugh. "Funny, that's what Harry said, too."

"And he's right," Ron agreed. He glanced down at his watch and grimaced. "I was supposed to be in the office an hour ago."

"I'm sure Head Auror Williamson will understand, Ron," Hermione said.

"I know, but he's in a state, what with both Robards and Harry gone," Ron stated.

"It's not like he doesn't have other Aurors he can call on," Hermione admonished her husband.

Ron looked torn. "I'd much rather stay here."

"Then stay," Ginny softly said, touching his arm. Ron nodded and silently sagged back into his chair.

They fell into silence, lost in thought. Ginny longed to tell Harry the good news, but it was clear that Ron and Hermione needed to remain by his side nearly as much as she did. She tucked her feet underneath her and watched Harry's chest slowly rise and fall, wondering if he was even aware that they were there, waiting for him to wake up. She glanced over at Ron and Hermione, to find he had wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Hermione's head rested on his shoulder and her eyes were closed. Ron stared at Harry, with much the same look Ginny feared was on her face.

Ginny was about to suggest that they go home and get some rest when Healer Jacobson arrived with his aide to check that Harry's wounds were healing properly and administer another dose of potions. They apologetically explained they would have to ask the three of them to leave while they worked.

Ginny was disappointed that she was being separated from Harry so soon after arriving, but she had little choice. Ron roused Hermione, who sat up immediately, looking about hopefully. When she saw that the Healers were waiting patiently for them to leave, she rose dejectedly from her seat. Ron lightly held onto Hermione's elbow and guided her to the corridor as Ginny followed. Ginny was planning on sitting on one of the chairs that lined the wall when Ron suggested the three of them have breakfast in the tea shop to bide the time and she half-heartedly agreed.

Walking to the tea shop, they passed by the doors to the closed ward, and Ginny noticed Professor Lockhart peering out the windows at them as they passed. Seeing him reminded her that he had spoken to her regarding her scarab necklace when she had visited Josie a few days prior.

Pausing just past the doors, Ginny debated whether or not it was even worth attempting to speak with the man to see if she could possibly attain any useful information from him regarding why the necklace had glowed briefly when she placed it around Harry's neck.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked, looking over at her in concern.

"I'd like to visit Professor Lockhart," Ginny decided, turning back towards the closed ward.

"Why?" Ron asked, following his sister with his wife in tow.

"He said something about my necklace the last time I saw him," Ginny replied, pushing the doors to the closed ward open. Hermione and Ron didn't have time to inquire further before Professor Lockhart accosted them.

"Do I know you?" Professor Lockhart asked excitedly as Ginny entered the ward.

"'Yes," Ginny replied. "You taught my Defence Against the Dark Arts class my first year at Hogwarts."

"Did I?" Lockhart asked.

"Yes, but you weren't very good," Ginny admitted and to her surprise Lockhart laughed.

"No, I imagine not," he said merrily. "Not my thing, really. Would you like my autograph?"

"You gave me one a few days ago," Ginny said as Ron snorted at Lockhart's one track mind, and she felt her purpose here was futile after all.

"I did?" Lockhart asked again, causing Ron to roll his eyes.

"You also spoke with me about a necklace I was wearing at the time," Ginny pressed on. "It was a green scarab, and I wore it for protection. You said it would keep me safe in the afterlife."

"And?" Lockhart leaned forward, eagerly looking at Ginny. "Did it?"

"I gave it to my husband, who I thought was dead," Ginny continued. "Only, when I placed it around his neck it began to glow and pulse like a beating heart. And, Harry... as soon as he started breathing again, the scarab returned to normal."

"Fascinating!" Lockhart exclaimed. "What do you think that means?"

"I don't know!" Ginny said in exasperation.

"Ginny," Hermione quietly said. "He's not in his right mind, remember?"

"Too right he isn't," Ron agreed, edging towards the door when Lockhart looked his way eagerly.

"But he knew about my necklace before," Ginny insisted. "He seemed so lucid."

"Heart scarabs guide spirits in the afterlife," Lockhart babbled.

"What did you say?" Ginny asked.

"I have read that heart scarabs are usually green, like your's, Ginny," Hermione thoughtfully commented.

"So, my necklace could be a heart scarab," Ginny breathed, staring at Hermione.

"Perhaps Harry's spirit was guided to it," Hermione agreed, hope colouring her voice.

"Is that why it was glowing?" Ron asked, catching on to the direction the conversation was taking.

"I suppose. Perhaps that's how it brought Harry back to me," Ginny mused.

"Do I know Harry?" Lockhart asked, but Ginny ignored him and looked over at Hermione and Ron.

"What do you think, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Your brother, Bill, would know better than me, Ginny," Hermione admitted, "but I suppose it's possible. The mugwort I used in the binding tincture helps aid astral travel. I suppose Harry may have had another out-of-body experience, similar to the one I assume he experienced when Voldemort killed him in the Forbidden Forest.

"Perhaps your amulet summoned his spirit back to his body when you placed it around his neck. From what I know about heart scarabs, they are always placed next to the heart, offer protection from evil and, most importantly, symbolize resurrection and health."

"I suppose the only way we may ever know is if Harry wakes up and can tell us," Ginny sighed.

"He'll wake up," Ron assured. "He always does."

"Who will?" Lockhart asked, looking between the two women.

"Never mind," Ginny said quickly, "But thanks for your help, Professor."

She headed towards the door and Ron and Hermione followed. They managed to exit without too much trouble from Lockhart and Ginny stopped outside the door. "Listen, you two, I'm really not hungry at the moment and I know you are knackered. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'm anxious to get back to Harry."

"But I doubt Healer Jacobson is done yet, Ginny," Hermione reminded her.

"Then I'll wait outside his ward," Ginny said. "Mum sent food with me in case I am hungry later. Please go home and rest. I insist."

They looked at her uncertainly, and Ron studied her closely, using his Auror training to silently assess her mental state.

"I'm fine, Ron!" Ginny exclaimed. "It's you two I'm worried about. You need to rest. As Mum was so quick to inform me yesterday, we aren't doing Harry any good if we aren't taking care of ourselves."

Ron eyed her a moment longer before finally acquiescing, "All right, but only because you are right."

"Let us know as soon as he wakes up," Hermione ordered.

"I will," Ginny said and walked with them to the private lobby. Ron pulled her into a fierce hug, mumbling 'I love you' in her ear before letting her go. Hermione did the same before they exited out the door that would take them to the private Apparition point.

Ginny returned to Harry's ward and waited outside until the Healers were finished. Healer Jacobson finally emerged and said he was pleased with how Harry was healing. He also reassured Ginny that he still was not too concerned that Harry had yet to wake up, citing that Harry's body was expending most of its energy to heal. Nodding, Ginny thanked him and his aide before entering the ward.

Instead of sitting in the chair that sat next to the bed, Ginny sat on the bed next to Harry. The side of the bed dipped under her added weight, but he remained unmoving. Sighing, Ginny brushed his damp hair away from his forehead. How she longed for him to open his eyes and tell her he was going to be all right. Drawing her hand back, she reached in the pocket of her jumper and pulled out the picture of the embryo. She and Harry were going to have a little girl or boy, after all. Her stomach flipped at the thought and despite her worry over Harry's well-being, her lips curled up in a tiny smile.

She leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Harry, I have a surprise for you. You have to wake up to see it though."

Reaching for his hand nearest her, Ginny picked it up and placed the palm against her belly. "We're having a baby, Harry."

She covered his hand with her own and closed her eyes, imagining what the baby would look like. She would be happy with either a boy or girl, as long as the baby was healthy, but she would be lying if she didn't admit that part of her was hoping for a little boy who looked just like Harry. She hadn't known Harry as a small child and unfortunately, there weren't any pictures of him after his first year of life until he began attending Hogwarts, but she was certain he had been adorable.

She pictured a little boy with messy black hair, but maybe he would have her eyes, sparkling always with mirth. She felt a flutter of movement within her at the thought, as if the tiny life was pressing against her belly where Harry's hand rested, to reach its father. A soothing warmth spread from her belly through Harry's hand until it reached her own. It travelled up her arm and through the rest of her body, chasing all the strain and worry she was feeling away.

The idea that the three of them were connected at the most basic of levels filled her. Their souls uniting for a brief instant of time. It was magic, she knew, and then she realized it wasn't just any magic, it was the baby's magic infusing into her and Harry.

Harry's hand moved against her and her breath caught in her chest. She laced her fingers between his and nearly cried when he responded by weakly curling his fingers against hers. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see his blessedly green and beautiful eyes looking at her.

"Ginny," he croaked and Ginny's face broke in a glorious grin as she cradled his face between her hands and kissed him.

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry was drifting in a black abyss, uncertain which way would lead to consciousness. Since travelling into the green light, he had lost all sense of time and it could have been days since he had flown into the green light or merely seconds. He had no way of knowing, for it felt like an eternity to him, as he wandered aimlessly in the dark, wondering if he was alive or dead and if this was what death truly was like. Occasionally, a distant voice would call to him and he would try to move in the direction he thought it was originating from, but he quickly became disoriented again and the voice would fade.

Eventually, he had given up completely and stopped trying to find his way out. He remembered from long ago when he was told if he ever became lost, the best thing to do was stay in one place and someone would eventually find him. It was while in this stationary state, musing over past happy times in his life, when Harry felt a small tug on his consciousness. It was very weak, and at first, he ignored it, not wanting to have his hopes risen that his time in purgatory was nearly over to only have them dashed once again. The tugging persisted, however, and was soon accompanied by a tiny surge of magic. Harry reached out to the magic with his own and felt himself being drawn out of the darkness.

He slowly awoke, his head throbbing painfully and he was wary of opening his eyes, afraid he would experience what he had before. Like last time, he took silent stock of what he could feel, good and bad. His left arm and leg burned and ached with an internal fire and he clenched his jaw against the pain radiating through him. The last time he had awoken, he had felt good as new, as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He took the pain as a good sign that he was actually in his body this time around.

He felt a small, warm hand clutching his own, pressing it against something equally as warm and soft. It felt deliciously familiar; he knew this hand holding his and he struggled to move his own in response. He was frustrated at how weak he felt, but when the small fingers linked with his, he tried again and was successful.

Cracking his eyes open he saw the top of Ginny's beautiful red head as she bowed next to him. His heart clenched in his chest, and he opened his mouth to speak when she raised her head and looked directly at him. Her eyes widened in surprise and swallowing hard, Harry managed to whisper her name. He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and his heart slowly stopped trying to pound its way out of his chest. He was alive and she had heard him.

"Oh, thank Merlin, Harry!" Ginny breathed, gripping his hand tighter and running the fingers of her other hand through his hair.

Harry was about to attempt to speak again when the door to the room opened and Kingsley strode in followed by two Healers.

"Step away from him, Ginny," Kingsley commanded from where he stood at the foot of the bed.

"Kingsley," Ginny protested. "Harry's all right. He called my name, his eyes..."

"Step away," Kingsley repeated. "You know we have to be certain."

It was then that Harry realized that while he was able to hold Ginny's hand, he felt tight bindings around his wrists and ankles, anchoring him to the bed. He tried to raise the hand Ginny was holding, but it only moved a fraction of an inch from the bed.

A stricken look crossed Ginny's face, but she reluctantly placed his hand back on the bed before standing up and taking a step back. A tall, slightly balding Healer took her place.

"Good morning, I'm Healer Jacobson," he introduced himself before waving his wand over Harry. "I was surprised to hear my awakening wards triggered so soon, but am happy to say you are healing nicely."

"Thanks," Harry managed to whisper before another Healer stepped up behind Healer Jacobson. Jacobson turned to indicate the man, who had sandy blond hair and cool, blue eyes. "This is Healer Kildare, highly skilled in Legilimency."

Harry blanched at this and felt what little blood he had in his face drain away. To say this was a rude awakening would be an understatement. Vague flashes came to him of what had transpired in the Horcrux Room, but he couldn't remember the details. He remembered fighting with Tom after he had thought he had died and destroying him in the Love Room, but quickly realized no one aside from him would know this. Kingsley remained standing at the foot of the bed and looked apologetically at Harry, but refrained from saying anything.

Harry opened his mouth to begin to explain, but was dismayed to find he was too parched and the pain in his head and body was escalating, making speech difficult. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep the grimace of pain off his face.

"I know you are probably in a considerable amount of pain," Healer Jacobson commented. "You are due for your next round of pain potions, but they muddy the effect of Veritaserum, so until we are finished deducing whether or not Tom Riddle is still in possession of your faculties, we cannot administer them."

"You can't give him anything?" Ginny beseeched on Harry's behalf.

"The Veritaserum will dull the pain," Healer Jacobson assured before nodding to Healer Kildare. The blond Healer pulled a small vial from the pocket of his robes and waved his wand causing Harry's bed to adjust him to a sitting position. Harry couldn't help the small hiss of pain that escaped as the movement taxed his healing wounds. Healer Kildare held up the vial and pulling out the dropper, asked Harry to open his mouth. While it was painful and somewhat humiliating, Harry could understand their precaution, and he dutifully did as he was told, allowing the Healer to drop three drops of the bitter potion on his tongue.

Harry had only taken Veritaserum one other time, during Auror training and immediately recognized the filmy haze that overtook his brain as the potion quickly entered his system. The pain in his body dulled as his eyes glazed over, signalling the potion was taking effect.

Healer Kildare sat on a chair next to Harry's bed. "Look at me, please." Harry turned his eyes towards the Healer, who stared intently at him. Harry could feel his mind opening up as the Healer entered his most recent memories, sifting through them like pictures in a photo album.

"I'm going to ask you some questions now," he said softly and Harry nodded slowly. "Do you know what day it is?"

"No," Harry replied. "The last day I remember is Tuesday."

"Do you know the month and year?" Healer Kildare asked.

"November, Two thousand and two."

"How old are you?" Healer Kildare inquired.

"Twenty-two."

"What is your full name?"

"Harry James Potter."

"Profession?"

"Auror."

"Are you married?"

"Yes."

"To whom?"

"Ginny," Harry said with a blissful grin that caused both Ginny and Kingsley to snicker despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Do you know why you were admitted to St Mungo's, Harry?" Healer Kildare asked.

Harry saw Draco's angry visage swim before his eyes, sending wave after wave of the Cruciatus Curse towards him. "Draco Malfoy attacked me," Harry replied.

"Why?"

"The Binding Ritual caused Tom's spirit to attach to me," a shudder ran through Harry as he said this and more images flashed through his mind of breaking Hermione's wrist and torturing Narcissa. "I hurt my friends."

"No, Harry," Ginny whispered, but Healer Jacobson silenced her with a look.

"Are you still possessed?" Healer Kildare questioned.

"No."

"Are you sure?" the Healer pressed.

Harry nodded. "His spectral form was destroyed by pure love. I watched Tom explode into a million pieces in the golden globe." Fighting Tom had been exhausting, but Harry was certain without a shadow of doubt that he had finally seen the last of the evil wizard.

"Can you clarify, Harry?" Kingsley intervened, a look of confusion on his face. "What golden globe?"

"In the Love Room in the Department of Mysteries," Harry expounded.

"How did you wind up there?" Kingsley pressed.

"I woke up, and Ginny was crying," Harry said. "She couldn't hear me or see me. Tom was standing there, laughing at me. I attacked him and he ran away. I chased him through the Department of Mysteries and we wound up in the Love Room. I threw him into the golden globe in the centre of the room and he exploded."

"What happened after that?" Healer Kildare asked.

"I was confused," Harry reflected. "I didn't understand why I was stuck wandering the Department of Mysteries as a ghost when I was pulled back to the Horcrux Room and entered a green light. After that there was only darkness until now." Reflecting on everything that had happened was exhausting and the extreme guilt Harry now felt at the pain he had inadvertently inflicted upon his friends weighed heavily upon him. How could he ever face them again? He thought perhaps it would be better to go back to sleep and perhaps when he woke up all of this would turn out to be an awful nightmare and nothing more. "I'm tired."

"You did well, Harry," Healer Kildare commented and slowly withdrew from Harry's mind. Harry collapsed against the bed pillows and the Healer quickly waved his wand over him, releasing the bonds still holding him.

"Welcome back, Harry," Kingsley said in relief, smiling over at him.

Harry dully nodded as Ginny pushed past both Healers to sit at his side, once again taking his hand. He closed his eyes, and gripped her hand tightly. Healer Kildare poured a goblet of water from the pitcher sitting on the bedside table and pulled several bottles from his pocket. He handed the goblet to Ginny.

"Help him drink this and then we can administer the potions he needs," he informed her.

Ginny gently held Harry's head and helped him take several sips from the goblet. When he had drunk all he could, Healer Kildare gave him the potions to ease his pain. Harry's breathing slowed as his body relaxed and he opened his eyes, searching for Ginny.

"I'm here, love," Ginny whispered. "Go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

Keeping his hand firmly clasped around hers, Harry allowed his eyes to flutter closed and for sleep to take him. Only, the darkness did not greet him this time. Instead, the Veritaserum made him revisit the events in the Horcrux Room, and all the awful things that had happened flashed through his dreams in torturous slow-motion. He saw the look of terror on Ginny's face over his possession and again was unable to do anything to stop it; he was trapped in the small corner of his mind that had once housed the soul fragment, only able to force small changes that sent the fragment's intended spells missing by millimetres. He felt Hermione's dainty wrist snapped by his hand and he screamed once again along with his best friend. He had no time to tell Ginny he loved her before the monster wrested back control.

Jolting awake, Harry's terrified green eyes looked directly into Ginny's soothing brown ones, as she gently gripped his shoulders and pushed him back against the pillows.

"It's just a nightmare, Harry," she consoled quietly, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead. She poured him a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the table by his bed and helped him to drink some of the cool liquid.

When the water had quenched his parched lips and throat, Harry looked past her to stare at the drawn curtain around his bed.

"I tried to tell you I loved you," Harry whispered. "But Tom wouldn't let me. He took back control before I could get the words out. Then you were crying and you couldn't hear me and I couldn't touch you."

"I thought you were dead. You weren't breathing and your eyes," Ginny stopped, taking a ragged breath. "They were opened, but unseeing. It was awful. We let Draco nearly torture you to death."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "I couldn't think of any other way to possibly exorcise the ghost. I thought I would have to die again."

"I know," Ginny agreed. She cried silently, tears coursing down her cheeks and Harry's heart clenched in pain at the torment he had caused her once again. Saying sorry didn't seem good enough, but he had no idea what else to say. Instead, he tried to reach for her, to pull her into an embrace, but burning pain seared down his left arm and he grimaced. He contented himself, with clasping her left hand with his right, his thumb brushing over her knuckles and grazing her diamond engagement and wedding rings.

"I love you," he murmured. "I'm so sorry. I should have listened to Draco from the beginning. Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened."

"Don't!" Ginny exclaimed, gazing at him fiercely through the tears in her eyes. "Don't take this upon yourself, Harry! You are no more to blame than me, Hermione, or that bastard Draco! We all made mistakes." Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she placed a finger against his lips. "No, Harry! I will not allow you to take the brunt of the blame. No one blames you. You are as much a victim here as any of us. If you are worried about Hermione, she has been here, sitting by your side, nearly as much as I have."

"But Robards, and," Harry paused, closing his eyes against the painful memory of Ginny quietly sobbing over the loss of their baby. "And our baby," he whispered.

"There's something I need to tell you, Harry," she murmured, fresh tears glistening in her eyes. She reached into her jumper pocket and pulled out a photo and pressing it against her chest, took a deep breath before looking over at him. "Yes, we lost a baby, but I'm still pregnant."

"What?" Harry asked, disbelievingly.

Ginny smiled bittersweetly through her tears. "We're still having a baby."

She handed him his glasses and he put them on before she pulled the photo away from her chest, and turned it so he could see the picture clearly. Harry gazed at the grainy black and white photo, trying to make out exactly what he was looking at. Ginny rose from her chair and gently sat on the bed next to him in order to point out the features of the baby.

"I've been staring at this for hours now, waiting for you to wake up so I could tell you properly," she whispered, her hand seeking his out and clasping it tightly. "This," she continued, pointing to a round, white part of the photo with a small dark dot in the middle, "this is the side of the baby's face. I think the small dot is its eye, and you can just see the beginnings of where the nose will be and the mouth." She pointed to a thin line under the dot, her smile widening.

"It even has little paddles already where the arms and legs will be, Harry," Ginny gushed. "Isn't it amazing?"

Harry nodded mutely, absorbing the news she was telling him. It seemed too good to be true, but then he vaguely remembered the magical thread that had drawn him out of the black abyss.

"Did you tell me already?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I did," Ginny replied, looking over at him. "Right before you woke up the first time. Why?"

"I think I felt something," Harry said slowly.

"So did I," Ginny responded, awe filling her voice. "I placed your hand against my belly when I told you and it felt like the three of us were connected for a brief instant in time."

"I can't believe it, but now that I know, I understand what I felt earlier." Harry pressed his hand against Ginny's belly and closed his eyes, hoping to feel the faint touch again. "I can't feel it anymore, but I know it's still there. It drew me out of the darkness."

"Yes," Ginny simply agreed. She leaned back on the pillow next to him and they gazed silently at the picture of the embryo. Harry couldn't believe his luck; waking up to Ginny telling him he was going to be a father. His hand sought hers out once again and he held it tightly in his own.

"I'm so glad I can feel you," Harry murmured.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, her shoulder rubbing against his as she settled closer to him. He could feel her warmth through the soft fabric and relief filled him.

"It seems too good to be true," Harry replied. "If I couldn't feel you, I'd be afraid I was still stuck in the golden ball reliving happy moments in my life."

"Tell me about the golden ball," Ginny whispered.

"I don't remember much," Harry mused, collecting his thoughts. He tried to remember the events that had happened during his out of body experience, but found the memories to be becoming hazy and fragmented now that he was awake. He recalled being in the golden ball and reliving happy moments, and having a vague sense of euphoria, which he tried to explain to Ginny. He distinctly remembered the soul fragment exploding and the resulting dust dispersing out of existence, but after that he couldn't recall much except the pale green light.

"After the fragment vanished, I think I was confused," he stated. "All I wanted to do was see you again. I remember a pale green light and entering it, and then nothing until I woke up and saw you."

"I placed my heart scarab necklace around your neck when I thought you had died," Ginny whispered. "Almost as soon as I did, it began glowing and you gasped for air."

As she was speaking, Harry realized he was still wearing the necklace and could feel the weight of the pendant resting against his chest. He looked down, but it looked the same as always, but he imagined if it was glowing it would look a lot like the green light he had seen. He tried to lift his left arm again in order to pull the necklace off and examine it closer. He grunted against the pain and Ginny stilled his hand with her own.

"Don't, you're still healing," she softly said. "Besides, I don't want you to take the necklace off yet."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because, I think my necklace is actually a heart scarab and it acted like a beacon, guiding your spirit back to your body," Ginny explained. "It's keeping you safe."

"I promise you the soul fragment is gone for good," Harry assured her. "I watched it disappear this time."

"All the same, humour me?" Ginny asked, turning pleading brown eyes towards him that Harry had never been able to resist.

"All right," he conceded, pulling her closer with his good arm. "Thank you for saving me."

"I didn't do anything," Ginny negated.

"I think you did," Harry insisted. "Albus always told me the greatest power of all was love."

"I do love you with all of my heart," Ginny declared, the truth behind her words shining in her eyes.

"Then, you saved me," Harry softly said. "You and the baby did."

"I'm so happy I'm pregnant, Harry," Ginny sighed. "I already was when Healer Banner told me because it gave me hope while you were still unconscious, but now, knowing that the baby may have helped bring you back to me makes it even more special. Are you happy?"

"Of course, I am!" Harry exclaimed, realizing they had never had a chance to talk about the miscarriage in any depth. "The miscarriage made me realize how much I wanted to be a father, Ginny." He paused, worry filling him that Ginny could still lose this baby, too. "What did Healer Banner say? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Harry," Ginny reassured him. "Better than fine. You're awake, whole and we're going to be parents, after all."

Ginny placed her hand on the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him softly. Harry closed his eyes and savoured the moment. She threaded her fingers in his hair and broke the kiss to rest her forehead against his, the tips of their noses just brushing. Harry gripped her tightly around the waist with his right arm and pulled her back down on the bed next to him. She settled her head against his shoulder, and slipped her hand out of his hair to rest on his chest over the amulet.

"Can we stay like this forever?" she whispered.

"I'd like that, but the baby might object," Harry murmured, the pleasant weight of Ginny's body next to his making him drowsy.

"There's the perfect spot for the baby right here," Ginny replied, indicating the space where their bodies met next to her bosom and Harry's chest. "I imagine it would be very cosy."

"I'm cosy," Harry muttered, his eyelids drifting closed.

"Go to sleep, Harry," Ginny soothed. "Dream of me and the baby."

"Only if you promise to stay right here," Harry requested, knowing his sleep would be more restful with the reassuring presence of Ginny.

"Wild Hippogriffs, irate Healers, or concerned mothers with Sleeping Draughts couldn't drag me away," she vowed, snuggling closer and slipping her hand over his chest to gently caress his aching left shoulder.

A contented sigh escaped Harry's lips as the soft touch of Ginny's fingertips lulled him to sleep. Just before he drifted off completely, he made a mental note to try to remember to ask her what she had meant about mothers with Sleeping Draughts.


	22. Epilogue

**Author's Notes: **Well, this is it, and I hope you will find it a satisfying end. I apologize for not posting this sooner - the new school year started last week and I found myself with a Kindergartner as well as going back to teaching myself! The new schedule doesn't leave me a lot of time for writing and editing now, but I finally found a free moment today to post. Thankfully, this story is complete, but it might be awhile before you see anything else by me.

I have my two fantastic betas to thank, Arnel and seekers_destiny, who were with me every step of the way. Their input has been invaluable and I absolutely could not have written this without them.

Finally, thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. I have truly appreciated everyone's thoughts and comments. It has been interesting to see the varying viewpoints as the story progressed. Enjoy the Epilogue to _The Unknown Spectre._

**hghghghg ghghghgh**

Harry sat on the edge of his bed at St Mungo's unconsciously flexing his left hand. The burning pain in his arm had dulled to an annoying ache over the week of his convalescence and he was most anxious to leave and not return for a long time if he could possibly help it. Since undergoing the traumatic experience of Legilimency with Healer Kildare, nightmares had plagued Harry's sleep like he had not experienced since his days at Hogwarts. He had been hesitant to mention them to Ginny since she was worried enough over his welfare as it was, but she had sensed his dismay and forced a confession out of him.

She had spent hours trying to reassure him that nothing that had transpired in the Horcrux Room had been his fault. Ron and Hermione had joined her ranks bolstering Harry up and refusing to accept his apologies for hurting them. He had finally given up and submitted to all of their pleadings to focus on getting better instead.

Ginny had also kept reminding him that he was going to be a father, and that had done wonders to help him focus on the future instead of dwelling on any residual guilt he was feeling. When Ron and Hermione heard the news, Ron's loud whoop of excitement had caused Healers to come running and nearly throw him out. It had reminded Harry so much of the times at Hogwarts when he had been in the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey had shushed them that he had laughed aloud, something he couldn't remember having done in weeks.

While he had been laid up and his friends had continued to visit his bedside, Hermione had filled Ginny's head with talk of something called a babymoon. Ginny had decided for the both of them that some time away somewhere warm and sunny would be a very good thing and had booked them passage to a private villa in Croatia. Harry knew she was using the babymoon as an excuse and only hoped the change of scenery would help him overcome the nightmares.

Harry looked over at the picture of the embryo he had propped up on the bedside table against the small box of potions he still had to take until he was fully recovered. He had spent the first few days after awakening simply staring at the picture when he had been too weak to do much of anything else. He still had a hard time believing he was actually going to be a father.

Even with the nightmares and the remaining side effects of the abuse Tom's possession had put Harry's body through, he still couldn't believe his luck that he had survived everything. To find out he was actually going to be a father after all had been an added bonus. Sometimes he thought it might be too good to be true and that perhaps he had died after all and this was some strange version of heaven.

"Well, I see you are finally up and about," a familiar voice drawled from the door to the ward.

Harry grimaced. This definitely wasn't heaven if Draco Malfoy was still wandering about, unless the gods had a sick sense of humour. Harry hadn't seen or heard from Draco since the night of the Binding Ritual, not that he wanted or expected to.

With a sigh, he turned to face his childhood foe. Draco hesitated in the doorway, clearly uncertain whether or not his presence was at all welcome. His eyes flicked nervously towards Harry's wand, lying upon the bedside table before spying the picture of the embryo and widening in surprise.

Harry smirked. "Dismayed at the prospect of more Potters coming into the world, Malfoy?"

Draco's grey eyes showed his disdain. "You could say that. I suppose I should say congratulations, Potter."

"Thanks," Harry commented. "Even if I don't quite believe you." He studied Draco a moment before indicating the chair next to his bed. "Would you like to sit down?"

Draco continued to linger in the doorway, waging a silent, internal battle before accepting Harry's offer and taking the proffered seat.

"I wasn't really expecting to see you again," Harry began, "but I'm glad you stopped by."

"Really?" Draco asked suspiciously, eyeing Harry warily.

"Yes, I want to thank you for helping exorcise the fragment's ghost," Harry simply stated.

Draco snorted. "Don't thank me, Potter. It was my pleasure."

"Was it, really?" Harry asked. He gazed coolly over at Draco, the challenge evident in his eyes. To hear Ron tell it, Draco had fallen to pieces after he'd thought he'd actually killed Harry. While they were in school Harry knew Draco had probably dreamed of torturing him or worse, but he had always known Draco had never had it in him to become a murderer. If Harry was certain of anything, the only reason why Draco had stopped by St Mungo's today was to ensure that Harry actually was all right and that Tom was really gone for good this time.

"Remember when I said I despised you?" Draco asked.

"Which time?" Harry responded, smiling slightly.

"It hasn't changed," Draco spat.

"You're just upset because I can still read you like a book, Malfoy," Harry said. He looked over at the picture of the embryo. "As you can see, I have a lot to live for and I have you to thank that I'm going to be able to. You did what no one else was able to do in the Horcrux Room - you killed me and Tom."

"You look pretty alive to me," Draco commented dryly.

"Well, it's a good thing we are magical and my wife owns a heart scarab necklace," Harry remarked. "It guided me back from the astral plane."

"Is he really gone?" Draco asked, finally revealing the real reason for his visit, as Harry had suspected.

"Yes," Harry answered. "I'm positive this time."

"You were fairly confident he had been dispatched the first time I told you he had returned and was haunting me," Draco reminded Harry.

"I'm not too proud to admit that I was wrong," Harry openly confessed. "You keep saying you've changed, but I've changed, too. Truce?" Harry held out his hand towards his old nemesis.

Draco hesitantly gripped Harry's hand and shook it briefly before releasing it. "This doesn't make us friends!"

Harry snorted with mirth. "No, but I don't think we're exactly enemies anymore either, do you? Allies?"

Draco nodded curtly before rising. "I'd better be leaving."

"See you around, Draco." Harry was startled to hear himself use Draco's given name. He looked up to see Draco looking just as surprised. They stared at each other a moment before the corner of Draco's lip curled up into a small smile.

"You, too, Harry," he replied slowly, turning to leave just as Ginny appeared in the door. Taking one look at him, her expression hardened into a look that brooked no argument. Without another word to Harry, Draco strode towards her, shooting her his patented scathing look of derision. A small snarl escaped her lips as he passed, and Harry was certain a small shudder ran through Draco as he quickened his pace and walked briskly down the corridor.

After Draco's departure Ginny turned her glaring eyes to her husband, and seeing him still looking somewhat pale and weak, her expression softened immediately.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Better. How about you?" Harry responded, knowing she had been suffering from morning sickness.

"Just fine, Harry," Ginny reassured. "Mum gave me a recipe for an herbal tea that has helped immensely." Ginny laughed. "Here I thought the nausea I'd been feeling over the past few weeks was because of the ghost, and it was morning sickness all along."

"It's nice knowing something good came out of all of this," Harry agreed.

Ginny looked over at him. "And I'm glad you managed to come out of it, relatively unscathed," she replied, thinking of her friend, Josie who was still in the closed ward after being possessed by Tom and probably always would be.

"I have you and the baby to thank for that," Harry stated. He thought back to the surge of magic that had flowed through him when Ginny had placed his hand against her belly the first time.

Ginny slipped her hand around his waist and leaned against his shoulder. "Are we ready for this?"

"No," Harry smirked, "But I'm really looking forward to this new chapter in our lives."

"Me too," Ginny sighed. "He's going to be special."

"He?" Harry curiously inquired, watching a small smile grace Ginny's lips as she nodded.

"Hmm," she hummed. "Mother's intuition." Her face fell as she said it. "I wonder what the other one would have been."

"Don't dwell on it, Ginny," Harry urged.

"I know," Ginny murmured. "I'm happy, really. Healer Banner told me we probably would have lost the other one whether the Bludger had hit me or not, and have never even known it existed."

"See?" Harry said. "Try not to feel guilty anymore."

"I don't, really," Ginny assured him and smiled again. "I think going away is going to do us a lot of good, don't you agree? By this evening we will be sitting on a private, sandy beach. Just the two of us. I can't wait."

"Me neither," Harry agreed. He looked over at her. "Did you have a chance to speak with Mrs Smith?"

Ginny nodded. "She was disappointed to hear we wanted to sell Wildebrook, but said she would put it on the market while we were away. Mum and Dad have offered to pack up our stuff and take it to Grimmauld Place. We can sort out where we want it all when we get back from Croatia."

Deciding to sell Wildebrook had been a tough decision, but they had been harassed by the ghost from the moment they purchased the home, and it held nothing but bad memories for them. He and Ginny decided to make an effort to re-decorate Grimmauld Place and make it liveable for the time being, and resume the search for a country home after the baby arrived.

"So, er, I'm surprised you didn't ask why Draco stopped by," Harry said as they gathered his potions and stood to leave.

"I didn't need to," Ginny replied, linking her arm through his to steady him. Even though he was healing well, and Healer Jacobson had assured him he would make a full recovery, Harry's Splinched leg still gave out on him from time to time. "I know he stopped by to make sure you really were okay. Rather sweet of him, don't you think?"

Harry goggled down at his wife. "Draco? Sweet? I don't think so. Why'd you snarl at him if you think it was nice he stopped by?"

"I can't have him thinking I'm a push-over, now can I?" Ginny retorted. "You're just a big softie."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Harry remarked.

"Albus truly would be so proud," Ginny commented, eliciting a wistful smile from Harry. "Now, we need to get going. Mum and Dad are expecting us."

Ginny's parents had insisted they stop by before they left by a special Portkey Kingsley had obtained for them that would take them quietly and discreetly to their destination. With both Ginny's and Josie's absence from the Harpies for the highly anticipated match against Puddlemere, stories full of speculation had been circulating through the press. Add Harry's hospitalization and Kingsley's cover story for the cause, and Ginny had been hard pressed to avoid being bombarded by reporters every time she entered or exited St Mungo's. She was looking forward to getting away for a while and would leave the Harpies public relations department to deal with what they chose to release to the press. The only stipulation Ginny had given them before turning in her request for a leave of absence from the Harpies was that they, under no circumstances, inform the papers that she was pregnant. Both she and Harry had agreed that it would be best if they kept the pregnancy hidden from the general public until it was no longer possible to do so.

Ginny could only imagine what would happen when the Wizarding world discovered that they were expecting a baby. She would like to avoid that circus for as long as possible.

Exiting St Mungo's via the private entrance, Ginny helped Harry into the Austin Healey that was parked by the curb. He settled into the passenger seat, happy to enjoy the scenery and allow Ginny to do the flying to Devon.

A light snow was falling and he lazily watched the flakes melt against the windshield as they flew over the countryside. When the familiar crooked structure of The Burrow appeared, Ginny gradually descended until the wheels touched down lightly on the lane and she drove the rest of the way to the garden gate. Waving her wand, the gate swung open and she pulled the car through, driving down the path and parking next to her father's shed.

"I suppose your dad will be able to enjoy the car for a while longer," Harry said with a sigh, running a hand over the smooth wooden dashboard.

"Don't worry, love," Ginny said. "We'll find a place again where we can keep it."

Harry took in the rolling hills surrounding The Burrow. "I've always loved Devon."

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him. "Do you want to buy a house here?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, if we can find one." He glanced over at her uncertainly. "Unless you wouldn't want to. I mean, you've lived here your entire life."

Ginny smiled at him. "I've always loved it here, Harry. Especially after a certain dark-haired boy wizard began spending all his summers here. We have a lot of good memories, don't we?"

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"I think it would be a great place to raise our family," Ginny said softly.

"Me, too," Harry agreed.

She leaned over and gently kissed him before asking, "Ready to go inside?"

Harry leaned his forehead against hers with a sigh and tangled his hands in her hair. "They're throwing us a party, aren't they? Combination congratulations on the baby and so glad you're still alive, right?"

"Something like that," Ginny murmured. "Everyone is probably there already."

"I've been in hospital over a week," Harry remarked. "A few more minutes won't matter. I've missed this."

He pulled her closer and kissed her again and Ginny melted happily against him, ignoring the gear shift poking in her side. She deepened the kiss, her hands gliding through his thick hair and sliding over his shoulders. Harry's hands were running down her sides and Ginny was preparing to somehow climb over to his side without breaking contact with his lips when a loud rapping came from the passenger side window.

They broke apart and looked out the window to see her mother standing there with her hands on her hips, looking sternly at them.

"You've already made a baby," she began, her stern look changing into a smirk. "There will be plenty of time for that later when you are away. Now, collect yourselves and come inside or next time I'll send George out to fetch you."

Molly turned and marched back inside fully expecting them to follow. Ginny looked away from her mother's retreating back over to Harry who was still gaping after his mother-in-law. He had turned an extremely bright shade of magenta that reached all the way to the roots of his hair.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny said with a laugh. If she hadn't already known that Tom really was no longer bound to Harry his embarrassed reaction to her mother would have answered her question. "I do love you."

Harry looked over at her and smiled crookedly. "I love you, too." He glanced towards The Burrow. "We'd better do as she says and go inside. I'd rather not deal with ribbing from George."

"There will be plenty of that as it is," Ginny warned, opening the door and stepping out of the car.

Harry followed and walked around to the front of the car to meet her. Taking her hand firmly in his, they walked towards the home that was undoubtedly filled with most of their loved ones, secure in the knowledge that the world had been rid of at least one more evil monster.

**-six months later-**

"I think you are going to find everything you are looking for in this manor home," Mrs Smith said to the newly married couple as she waved her wand over the oak front door. It easily swung open to reveal a beautiful parquet floored foyer with a large staircase that curved out of sight to their immediate left. A riot of colour from the stained glass rosette window on the first landing splashed across the stairs and onto the walls. The iron and crystal chandelier above their heads caught the rays of the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the front door and thousands of diamonds sparkled over the floor in front of the estate agent and her clients.

"It's beautiful," the young bride gushed, stepping past Mrs Smith to stand in the middle of the foyer and turn around in a circle, gazing up at the chandelier.

"Not as beautiful as you," the handsome groom said with a smile, approaching his wife, who blushed at his compliment.

Pretending she hadn't heard in order to give them a brief moment of privacy, Mrs Smith moved past the couple to point out the cupboard under the stairs.

"You'll find this house contains ample storage space, starting with this cupboard here," she opened the door to reveal the dark space within, and waving her wand, illuminated the small enclosure. "There is also a large, walk-in pantry in the kitchen, and a sunroom that would be perfect to store your cloaks and boots after a walk on the moor."

She moved down the passage that connected to a smaller hallway leading to the kitchen and study, knowing they would follow and pointed out the other features of the downstairs. "There is a water closet off this hallway here, directly across from the sunroom. To my right is a cosy study with built in shelves along two of the walls."

The bride and groom poked their heads in the room she indicated, ahhing over the large corner windows that afforded a lovely view of the moor behind the house. The husband stepped to the windows, gazing out, his tall, lean frame silhouetted by the indirect light from the windows.

"You could work from home from time to time here," his wife suggested, her eyes roving over the empty bookshelves. "I am sure father wouldn't mind."

Her husband nodded his head, turning away from the window and glancing into the front room. "The large bay windows in the front rooms are a nice feature," he observed and his wife nodded her agreement.

"You'll find this house very airy, indeed," Mrs Smith agreed. "The former owners fell in love with the windows and the views from them."

The husband glanced back at Mrs Smith, his steely grey eyes glinting. "If they loved it so much, why did they decide to move?"

Mrs Smith's smile faltered a fraction before it widened further, revealing her pearly white teeth. "They found they were expecting and decided they would like to be closer to family. This house is quite secluded and the moor can be a lonely place for some children."

"I like that it's secluded, and it would be nice to get away from the prying eyes of the Wizarding world," the young man said, his upper lip curling in disgust over the statement.

"You will not have to worry about that here, I can assure you!" Mrs Smith enthused. "The house and grounds are heavily warded against Muggle and Wizard intrusion of any kind, unless you specify otherwise."

The groom nodded his head and Mrs Smith proceeded ahead with her spiel. "Would you like to see the master suite? If you are enjoying the view from here, the one from there will simply take your breath away."

Nodding, the young couple followed her back to the foyer where she led them up the stairs to the first floor. As with all her clients she showed the house to, they stopped on the first landing to admire the stained glass window.

"The workmanship is exquisite," the young bride remarked, brushing her silky blonde hair away from her face to gain a better look. She reached out and traced the outlines of the iron around the window.

"The house was built at the turn-of-the-century, and this window and its twin on the second floor landing are the craftsmanship of the original owner," Mrs Smith offered, gazing at the window lovingly. "His wife loved flowers and he created these specifically for her. There is also a walled garden behind the house I will show you when we are finished here that was hers. It would afford you all the privacy you could ever ask for."

They continued up the stairs, and Mrs Smith pointed out the three bedrooms and the full bath on the first floor before moving on to the second floor and the main feature of the home - the master suite.

"This is the master suite," she announced, stepping into the spacious sitting/dressing room that contained two doors that led to the full master bath and the master suite, itself. She opened the door to the bath. "Lovely claw-footed tub and black and white Victorian tile in pristine condition." Closing the door after the couple had inspected the bath she guided them towards the master suite.

"This is my favourite part of the house, the master suite," Mrs Smith praised. "The two bay windows offer a breathtaking view of the moor and this room has a large, walk-in wardrobe with a pull-down trapdoor that leads to the attic." She walked into the wardrobe and pulled down the trapdoor to show them, but the young couple had wandered over to the windows to survey the back garden and moor beyond.

"It's beyond breathtaking," the bride enthused, her bright blue eyes roving hungrily over the rolling hills covered in green heather. "In a few months I imagine it will be a sea of purple."

"Yes," Mrs Smith agreed, stepping out of the wardrobe. "Summer is a lovely time of year here."

"May we see the gardens closer now?" the bride asked, turning away from the bay window and eagerly looking over at Mrs Smith.

"Of course!" Mrs Smith agreed, smiling as the groom took his wife's hand. The lovely bride placed her other hand on his arm and he guided her after the estate agent.

They walked silently back down the stairs, and had just reached the first landing when a loud thump sounded above their heads. The three of them paused and glanced back up the stairs.

"What was that?" the young man sharply asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh dear," Mrs Smith fretted. "I must not have closed the trap door in the master wardrobe properly. Why don't you two continue out to the garden? I'll go secure it, lock up here and meet you there when I am done. Then perhaps we can discuss your interest in the property?" She looked between them hopefully, observing as they exchanged that telling look that always signalled she was very close to making a sale.

Nodding their silent agreement, Mrs Smith continued to smile down at them as they walked down the stairs and exited out the front door. When the door had shut behind them, her smile fell to a grim line that slashed across her face and she stomped back up the stairs to the master suite.

Slamming the door open, it banged against the wall, sending chips of paint fluttering to the floor, as Mrs Smith walked to the wardrobe to find the trapdoor open and the ladder resting against the floor. Climbing up the ladder, she stepped into the gloom of the attic and peered about her.

"I know you are here!" she spat.

Mrs Smith squinted her eyes as she glanced about the attic. A grey shadow passed in front of one of the gabled windows, and floated to hover in the middle of the attic. A faint hissing filled the air and Mrs Smith glared into the centre of the spectre.

"You're supposed to stay by the oak tree in the garden so potential buyers will not detect you," Mrs Smith reprimanded. Another burst of hissing came from the ghostly image as it coalesced into the faint outline of a tall man with shoulder-length dark hair and silvery eyes.

"I AM trying to help you!" Mrs Smith declared. "How was I to know the previous owners already had a malevolent spirit attached to them? I'm not physic!" Her glare softened as she looked at the hazy image before her. "You are the only spirit I care to sense and see."

She moved towards the indistinct spectre, brushing her hand over its shoulder as she passed by to gaze out the window. The young couple was walking down the garden path towards the walled garden. She observed them silently, feeling a coldness wash over her as the spectre joined her.

"He will do," she commented. "He's a bit pale for my tastes, but handsome all the same. Subtley is key." She looked over her shoulder at the ghost. "You delved too deeply into the last owners' fears, and aided the release of that thing that wrested control from you. At least they managed to send it on its way without being the wiser to your presence. These two," she nodded at the couple who, thinking they were not being observed, were now entangled in a passionate embrace. "These two will have much more normal fears for you to prey upon, I suspect. Then, perhaps we can finally be together again."

As she spoke the wind over the moor picked up, causing the robes and hair of the young couple to billow about them. Turning from the garden they ran back towards the house hand in hand, laughing, oblivious to the two forms watching them from the attic gables of the house and the sudden hissing that joined the wuthering wind.


End file.
